Dizzy Up the Girl
by CC Writes
Summary: Lukas Thomassen is your Average Joe office worker. His life is going in circles and he wants something to change that. He didn't expect that change to come in the form of a hyper, clumsy Danish woman named Mathilde Densen. Nor/Fem!Den. AU. Semi!Nyotalia
1. Track I: Better Days

_**A/N;;**__I've started a new fic. Well, considering I'm idea dead for most of my other projects, I'd write and post this. I've got three chapters done for this already, and I feel much more solid than I do in "Elsewhere" with this fic right now. So I figured, "Why not?" Besides, it... I don't know._

_I just downloaded "Dizzy Up the Girl," "Gutterflower," and a few other songs by the Goo Goo Dolls. I love these guys so much._

**_Warnings:_**_ Swears, yaoi, yuri, het, Nyotalia, bad accents, etc, etc, etc. Also, this is the chapter where I claim I own nothing. So, like, if you wanna raise hell about me not doing it every chapter, please do. It's just gonna give me carpal tunnel... again._

_So, here we are! The newest story~_

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><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track I**  
><em>Better Days<em>

It was another boring day.

Then again, when was it _never _a boring day?

The gray of the walls were far too familiar to him; so familiar, in fact, he could point out every chip of paint, every smudge, every mark, and any other imperfections you might see. The windows were tinted dark, and it was too, easy for him to see the scratches and fingerprints left behind on the dark glass. The table he sat at was made of metal, and he was busy with the fourth round of counting how many times Tino looked at his phone.

The highest number was seventeen. Today he was at fourteen.

"And what do you think, Mr. Thomassen?" Oh shit, maybe he should've been listening instead of zoning out. Rubbing his forehead, he looked down at his half completed notes, and shrugged. "No opinion?"

"I'm positive this doesn't include my branch of work, Ms. Beilschmidt," the blond with almost white hair lied, and the boss' lighter blue eyes locked on him. She could tell he wasn't paying attention. "Uhm, from what my notes say," he began to explain. "We're dealing with something that my branch doesn't normally deal with." His accent was shaking, his Norwegian roots shining through.

"It'd be a good time to learn then," she hummed thoughtfully. "Very well, Mr. Thomassen, I see your pint. You work on 473 cases and the topic here is a 630 case. Whose branch works on those?"

Mr. Thomassen's dark cobalt eyes locked on the bleach blond man who raised his hand shyly, shoving his phone in his pocket. Bless Tino Väinämöinen for being talented. He could listen, take notes, and text at the same time. "Uhm, well, I think we need to close the accounts connected to Case 630-15. It seems that the ones connected to here are unable to pay, and have been…"

At this point, the Norwegian male again zoned, staring out the dim window. Tino finished his statement, and Ms. Beilschmidt pushed her bangs away from her face, her shot hair slicked back. "I think we're done here." The room stood up, and the German boss coughed. "I will call you in on Friday to discuss other cases. Mr. Thomassen, may I speak with you?"

His lungs shut down, dropping into his stomach. He nodded, and stood up. After everyone else had (slowly) exited, Ms. Beilschmidt motioned to the chair. "Sit, Lukas," she stated, trying to sound less professional. "Your focus in dwindling in meetings."

He resisted the urge to give a snarky comment, and then Lukas muttered, "Yeah, it's just… other things."

"Other things need to be last when you enter this building," the woman was kindly trying not to lose her temper and yell. She looked down at her notes. His boss looked up through blonde lashes. "Lukas, I understand things have been… hard on you. But when you're here, you need to focus on your job. You're young and the fresh new boss of your section. I picked you because of your ability to work hard and for your intellect. Do not make me second guess my choice."

Lukas only nodded, and stood up, hurrying out the door to avoid the cold glance of his boss. Outside the room was the bleach blond with indigo eyes, his friend and coworker, Tino. "How do you even get by?" teased the Finnish male, and Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Who were you texting? Your new girlfriend?" the Norwegian asked, ignoring the previous statement. He watched as the taller of the two short men flushed, and timidly nodded his head. "Wow, a new one already?"

"She's incredible! I'm pretty sure she's the one! I mean…"

"Tino," Lukas pulled out his car keys from his pocket, and they walked down the stairs, their voices echoing. "You say that _every_ time you have a new woman in your life. What makes you so sure _this_ time?"

"She's perfect," Tino began to explain, and Lukas gave an aggravated sigh. He tuned out the words of his friend. Tino was the one guy who could get any girl he wanted. He was kind and sweet, but not to the point where he was feminine. He also wasn't trying to pull off the tough guy act, being a total dick to women. However, it never lasted long. Tino was the kind of guy who was kind of picky; one day, the pretty little blonde who made chocolates was the one he wanted to marry, the next week he was talking to the dark skinned beauty that used to be a swimsuit model.

"And that's why she's the one!"

"Whatever you say," Lukas said as they entered the underground parking lot, approaching a nice looking red car. "What's her name?"

"Ivana Braginskaya," sighed the Finn dreamily. Lukas quirked an eyebrow, shocked at how love struck his friend was acting. "She's perfect."

"You say that again, and I might have to punch you." Opening the car door, Lukas slid into the driver's seat, and Tino rolled his eyes. "See you tomorrow."

"Whatever, Lu. Bye."

Watching as his friend walked away, Lukas wanted to shoot himself. He was tired of this. He could predict tomorrow's events all the same: wake up, shower, eat, drive to work, talk to Tino, get yelled at by the boss, eat lunch with a group of people he hates, go over the work his branch did that day, give a crappy report to Ms. Beilschmidt, get yelled at again, deal with pissed off people on phones, walk to the car with Tino, listen to Tino talk about Eva or whatever her name was, get in the car, go home, yell at Emil, go to bed. Repeat.

He hated his life.

"Hey, God? If you really _do_ exist," taunted the Norwegian. "Do something to shake up my schedule before Friday, all right?"

"_And you ask me what I want this year.  
>And I try to make this kind and clear.<br>Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days."_

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><p><em>So… like? Dislike? Meh?<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	2. Track II: American Girl

_**A/N;;**__ Okay, so, technically, the song is not originally by the Goo Goo Dolls, bur I hate Tom Petty. He annoys me. I love their cover of this song._

_But all I can think about is the scene from _Silence of the Lambs_. The one where that chick gets kidnapped, singing this song horribly._

_You know what I'm talking about, right?_

_Otherwise, chapter two~_

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><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track II**  
><em>American Girl<em>

Mathilde Densen was almost as American as people who were born in America themselves. She sure as hell fit the common stereotype. Loud, obnoxious, blonde, pretty… the only thing she lacked was big boobs and a pair of Daisy Dukes and she'd be a California girl for sure.

You couldn't tell by looking at her, but Mathilde was Danish. She did have the normal, very Danish features: unruly sandy blonde hair and big sky blue eyes. The only way people could go, "Oh, she's not from America," was when she talked. Her accent was slight, but noticeable. Which is funny, because she only spent six months in Denmark.

"Birgie, when yoo go out ta the market, can yoo pick meh up some…"

"Stop talking right now," snapped a woman with dirty blonde hair, tied back into a very professional looking bun. "I don't have time! I have school, and I need to drop Peter off at school."

Blinking, she clicked her tongue at Birgie, who pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. "But Birgie…"

"Stop calling me that, Mathilde!" retorted Birgie to her sandy blonde roommate. Mathilde made a face, rolling her eyes at the Swedish woman who was slightly taller than the Dane herself, but more slender, something she envied about her Swedish friend/stepsister. Mathilde wasn't _fat_, but she wasn't _skinny_… it was complicated.

"But-."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! Peter! Hurry up!" Birgitta snapped on the sandy blond boy sitting at the table, nibbling toast and finishing math homework. "You can do that in the car!"

"But-." Peter tried to begin, only to be cutoff.

"Why does everyone have to argue with me _today_?" the Swedish woman sighed dramatically. The Dane rolled her eyes.

"Jesus, what crawled up your ass with a stick and died?" Mathilde question, earning a loud laugh from the boy perched at the table and a death glare from the woman who was about ready to scream. Peter stopped laughing as soon as his mother's azure orbs locked with his.

"Look, Mathilde, we have a problem," she began, and pointed to the door, indicating for Peter to leave. The small boy with brushy eyebrows mumbled in protest, but did as he was told. "Our company closed our account yesterday evening."

Looking dumbstruck, the pale female rubbed the back of her head. "Why ta fuck did they do that?"

"Look, I don't know!" yelped the Swede, shaking her head, her stoic face showing an emotion she rarely showed: fear. Mathilde knew why, because this was what they had been worrying about since day one. When the two moved in together, Birgitta had used her mother's name and card to start up an account at a company, in which money was kind of growing on trees. It was risky, but it didn't matter.

"Did they find out?"

"I don't know…" muttered the Swede, removing her glasses to wipe her eyes. "Thilde, I'm worried. Payments for class are due at the end of the month and then there's all the food and Peter's uniforms are getting too small and medical bills and…"

"Hey, don't worry aboot it, sis," Mathilde flashed her trademark smirk, causing Birgitta to frown. She hated when Mathilde called her sisters, in spite of the fact they were stepsisters. Though, she could've also been frowning because when Mathilde started out with "don't worry," it meant she had a plan. "I can take care of it."

"No," snapped the dirty blonde. "Just… leave it alone."

"Hell no!" Birgitta's eyes widened as the Danish female walked out the backdoor and sped off onto her bike. The Swedish woman pouted.

"That stupid girl," scolded the female to no one in particularly. "She could be as American as our crazy ass 'hero' neighbor."

"_Oh yeah, all right.  
>Take it easy baby.<br>Make it last all night.  
>She was an American girl."<em>

* * *

><p><em>Bleh. I don't like this chapter as much. But it's kind of necessary for the next chapter. Birgitta is probably very OOC, but she's stressed beyond belief. I mean, come on! Imagine dealing with Sealand AND Denmark!<em>

_I have no clue how Danes talk. I have a Norwegian friend, but he has… this fucked up accent from living in France. My other friend is Swedish, but she's also half Hispanic and she also has this messed up mixture of accents._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	3. Track III: Aint That Unusual?

_**A/N;;**__ Poor Lukas…_

_He doesn't know what's about to hit him._

_Nor do I. This chapter isn't as great._

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><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track III**  
><em>Ain't That Unusual?<em>

Lukas had arrived at work to hear something that wasn't normal in the usually quiet office. It was the sound of someone screaming, or someone let some kind of psycho monkey-like animal into the office.

Either way, it was different.

"I demand to speak ta ya fuckin' boss!" shouted the (supposedly) female voice. The secretary glanced up from her nails, her ruby irises on the wild haired person at the desk. From what Lukas could see, the angered person _was_ female, with unruly sandy blonde hair and big, sky blue eyes. She was taller than he was, maybe she was wearing heels? She was chubby. She wore a red dress shirt that was unbutton at the top, showing off her petite curves and black jeans, with a matching black hair.

"Don't make meh use my axe on yoo!"

"Miss Densen, please," sighed the German (though she _insisted_ she was Prussian) female, blowing on her blood red nails. "Mr. Väinämöinen isn't here today."

"Then let me talk ta someone!" shouted Miss Densen, crossing her arms and stomping her foot like a child. "Come on! I don't have all fuckin' day!"

"Let me call my totally unawesome sister, then we'll talk." Lukas sighed as he walked past the scene, opening the door to his officer, and closing it lightly. He began to send emails out to his team, discussing what needed to be done by them today and what he expected before he left for home later today.

"Mr. Thomassen?"

"What da- Ms. Beilschmidt?" he tried to compose himself.

"I have a client wanting to speak with you," his boss said. "I'm sending her in…"

"Are yoo Mr. Thomassensitive?"

"Nevermind." _Click._ Lukas' dark, cobalt eyes narrowed in annoyance. It was her… the woman from the front desk. Miss Densen was what the secretary called her.

"Thomassen," corrected the male, taking out a pen and a notebook. "Now, how may I help you?"

"Are yoo Norwegian?"

"That's not important," hissed the blond. "But yes, I am."

"I'm Danish," she held out her hand. "Mathilde Densen."

"Ma'am, what do you need help with today?" Lukas rolled his eyes and waited for a response. She tilted her head, crossing her arms. "What?"

She flipped her hair. "Why'd yoo cancel my the account?" Lukas blinked, trying to figure out what she meant. "Well?" she asked again, and the Norwegian gulped, unsure of what to say. Yes, he knew the 630-15 accounts were all closed, but what was he suppose to do? That was Tino's decision, not his!

"Look, my friend… it's his branch." He watched her expression darken. "Ma'am, I can refer you to him tomorrow… are you the account holder, kid?"

"No," she hissed. Lukas' blood boiled. "And don't call me kid! I'm a fuckin' adult!"

"Then why are you here?"

"My sister is struggling here." She bit her lip, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Your sister and over half the population."

"Why are yoo being such a dick?" Mathilde asked. Lukas fumed, pointing toward the door. "Fine!" she stood up in a rush, wobbling as she turned around, trying to make her way to the door. Lukas watch as she swayed, finally collapsing on the floor.

Standing up quickly, the man shouted, "Miss Densen! Are you alright?" He walked around his desk to see her slouched over, eyes rolled back, and out cold. "Miss Densen!" he shouted, shaking her. He began to ponder the reasons why this happened.

"She stood up too fast, maybe hasn't eaten?" he spoke to himself, trying to figure out possible reasons to why this happened. He wasn't good when others fainted. He shook her again, this time her eyes fluttered, her blue eyes glazed over. "Miss Densen?"

"Wha… did I win?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. He realized she was much older than he would've guessed. He bit his lip to the point it was bleeding. "What happened?"

"You passed out, Miss Densen," Lukas explained. "Have you eaten?" She shook her head. "You're stressed, haven't eaten…"

"Oh… yoo a doctor?"

"No, my brother faints from time to time," he sighed, helping her up to her feet. "Thirsty?" he asked she shook her head. Lukas then asked if there was anyone she could call.

"No," Mathilde shook her head again. "My sister's busy." Lukas frowned and released her arm from his tight grip. "I need to go anyway. I've gotta pick up her bratty kid from summer school, anyway."

"Are you okay to drive?" asked the Norwegian, his voice returning to its usual icy tone. Her eyes narrowed and she gave a bitter nod. He watched her slowly walk out the door, and he bit his thumbnail.

Well, that was certainly different. He had never had anyone in his office faint.

That was… _unusual_.

"_Someday you never made it.  
>Maybe you never will.<br>Hey, you never made it.  
>Now, ain't that unusual?"<em>

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><p><em>Pfft. Oh, NORGE~ you have no idea.<em>

_More interaction (and length) coming up in the next chapter._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	4. Track IV: Hey Ya

_**A/N;;**__ Finding a song for this chapter was a bitch. So was writing it._

_So I figured I'd play it safe-ish._

_I also lied last chapter. THEY'LL MEET AGAIN IN CHAPTER FIVE. This chapter is kind of important. It introduces one of the subplots and (by now) kind of explains something important._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track IV**  
><em>Hey Ya<em>

"You did what?"

"It wasn't ta right guy, though! Yoo won't have ta see him!" Mathilde had told Birgitta, who had just returned from her afternoon job about her experiences today. "So…"

"I'm talking about you _fainting_, Mathilde!" Birgitta snapped, hands on her hip, glaring down (since she had some time ago grown taller than her dear older stepsister). Rolling hey sky blue eyes, the Dane opened the over, then closed it. "You did take your medicine, right?"

"Yes."

"You did drink that protein thing, right?"

"The one that tase like shit? Yes."

"You-."

"I did everything yoo always tell me ta do, damn it!" Mathilde frowned, slamming the bowl into the sink. "Look, let's just face it. Nothing they're doing- nothing _I'm_ doing- is helping."

"You know," the Swede sighed as the timer went over, and Mathilde again checked on the items in the oven, smiling as she pulled out a hot pan of cupcakes. "I'm going to have to take you to the emergency room if you faint again."

"I know."

"Your mom will kill me if I don't take care of you…"

"I know."

"You really shouldn't be-."

"Overexerting myself. I _know_." Mathilde was tired of this subject, smiling as her silent wish was granted when Peter sprinted into the room. "How's my favorite nephew?" Birgitta rolled her eyes, deciding it be best not to bring it up around Peter, since he wasn't filled in one _everything_ yet.

"Can I help decorate?" he asked, and Mathilde hugged him. He blinked, wondering why she hadn't picked him up like she normally would. He thought his aunt was the strongest woman alive. She used to play hockey. Sadly, he didn't get a chance to ask when Mathilde pulled out of the fridge a bowl of her special icing. "Yay!"

Birgitta watched the scene, slightly amused. Mathilde was busy setting up their decorating station while Peter was trying to grab a hot cupcake. Sighing, the Swedish woman returned to her room, and pulled out her laptop. She had a paper due tomorrow of musical theories, anyway, and she needed to take her mind off of some many things.

Checking her email, she noticed an email from her stepmother, frowning; she deleted it without reading it. She then began to finish up the paper, editing it, redoing large chunks of it, so on and so forth. She was just about to hit print when she heard someone running toward her room. "Mama! Mama!"

"What is it, sweetie?" Birgitta spun around in her chair, her son landing in her lap. "Peter?"

"Tilly fainted!" shouted the young boy with the big eyebrows. "Mama?"

"Call your father. I'm going to take Thilde to the hospital."

* * *

><p>Amethyst eyes watched as his shirt was tossed to the floor. He gulped, watching a tan finger run down his ribs, counting each one out loud. "…I can see more than last time."<p>

Shaking his head, the silver haired male asked the Asian on top of him, "You remember?"

"It's how I can see if you're purging." Kissing the young Icelander's lips, the Thai pulled away quickly, sighing lightly at the annoyed look on his lover's face. "Don't give me that Emil." He kissed his neck, placing a hand on his stomach (or what little of one there was, the Thai man assumed) and slid it down slowly.

"Kiet, maybe we should…" Emil whispered, but drifted off. "I mean… Lukas… will…" he became distracted and Kiet pulled away. "Come on," Emil said, sitting up just a little bit. The Asian groaned, rolling over next to him. "Kiettisuk."

He cringed at the use of his real name, something Emil hardly ever did. "Emil, how long have we been secretly dating?"

"I wouldn't call it-."

"No one knows," Kiet pointed out. "Not our friends, not my sister, not your family, not even those damn gossipers that sit right behind us in class. It's pretty much a secret."

"Kiettisuk."

"Look, Emil," Kiet sighed. "I don't know why you're so worried about getting caught. If you had told him sooner, we would be-."

"Lukas is overprotective. He hates you enough as it is."

And that was true. Lukas was ten years older than his nineteen-year-old brother. He had always been the one who tried to protect him when he was younger. They were all the other had left, considering the fact you don't count the ditzy Ingrid Innunguaq, their mother who was too preoccupied with her new husband, Inuk, and their baby brother, Malik. This does not also count Emil's real father, Stefan, or the fact Lukas had no idea where his real father, Kristian, was.

"Well, he can deal. I'm not exposing you to my bad habits."

"Yeah, and that is why," Emil sighed. "I'm hesitant to tell everyone we're dating." Kiet frowned, and Emil pushed up the Thai's sleeves. "Look at your veins. They shouldn't be this fucking small!"

"Temper, Emi." Emil glared as the man chuckled, "Be glad I'm not sleeping around anymore."

"I am glad, but it's the-."

"Emil? I'm home." The two exchanged panic filled glances, Emil stumbling for his shirt and Kiet trying to find a place to hide. "Emil…?"

"In my room!" Kiet was shoved inside the closet, and the Icelandic male jumped onto his bed, opening a book about birds. The door opened, Lukas standing there with a shocked look on his face. "I wanted to check on Puffin, but then I remembered I had to finish this book for a report due next week."

"Did Kiet come over to _study_?" Emil rolled his eyes at the question.

"Yes, but he had to go. His sister is pregnant and irrational." He then added, "By the way, don't make it sound like we're having sex."

"Whatever, as long as he's not here, because I was not in the mood to see his face today." Lukas glared at the floor, huffing. "We had some psycho come into work today. Must've been drunk or something because she fainted. Then I let her go and pick up her nephew. I hope I didn't kill them."

"Well, you weren't the one drinking," Emil pointed out to his light blond haired brother, who shrugged. "What's for dinner?"

"Chinese," Lukas sighed. "Come downstairs soon, okay?"

"Will do! Just let me feed Puffin!" The door closed and Emil got up, grabbing a cup full of bird food and walked over to his yellow canary, who sang for joy. Kiet stumbled from the closet, growling in annoyance. "Sorry, it's…"

"Whatever, just… make sure I don't fall out the window." Kiet opened his window, and began to crawl down from it. "Okay, so… I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Emil smiled, leaning on the ledge. "Lukas works late." Kiet gave him a devilish grin, and Emil leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend. "Love you."

Kiet hummed in content, then whispered, "Love you too, Emi." He jumped down from the side of the house, and Emil watched as he walked off, probably going to try and find his car. Sighing, he closed the window, turning to the canary named Puffin.

"What the hell am I doing?"

* * *

><p>"Thank you for coming over on such short notice, Arthur," Birgitta was busy cleaning off the dishes while Arthur was sipping some tea, his bushy eyebrows narrowed in thought. "You see, it was… really important that-."<p>

"I want custody over Peter." Birgitta froze in place, her body entirely stuck. Those were the words she never wanted to hear, ever. "Birgitta, I know you're struggling with money and honestly, I don't think this is an appropriate place to raise a child."

"So, the apartments a little rundown," sighed the Swede. "So what? Peter has friends here and all the neighbors are nice."

"You already have to care for Mathilde," the British man pointed out. "She's enough of a child as it is."

"Mathilde can be mature," Birgitta hissed, scrubbing the plate in her hand with extreme vigor. "Peter loves her. She's a much better adult figure in his life than you ever have been…" Arthur stood up, and began to yell.

"You know what? You can't properly provide for him!"

"Well, maybe if I had a little help!" she screamed. "You know, why did I ever fall for you? I should've known better! No self-respecting college student would've wanted to be with a freshman in high school."

"I did love you…"

"Until I got pregnant. Then you bailed on me, and I lived with my disappointed father and bitch of a stepmother until I was eighteen. By then, my father was too ill to protest to me getting kicked out!"

"Now listen," the Brit shouted over the sound of the plate being slammed onto the counter top. "I love Peter. Whether I wanted him or not then, he is my son. He is my flesh and blood."

"He never calls you father," she spat. "He always calls you Jerk. Jerk Kirkland, the bastard who left his mother with a fussy baby and no money. Do you know how hard it is to stay in school, maintain a job, and care for him?"

"And Mathilde?" Arthur asked. "My problem is I'm afraid when it comes to sacrifice…"

"Oh, don't you talk to me about sacrifice!" Birgitta shouted. "You wouldn't give up your fancy lawyer job just to spend more time with Peter! Peter doesn't want to spend time with you because you wouldn't have enough time for him anyway. Hell, even when you do you never-!"

"Birgitta, I'm taking this to court," he said, his tone dark and serious. "I'm sorry, I know you're attempting your best, but it's not… it's not enough for a growing boy."

"Get the hell out!" shouted the Swede.

"Now hold on, you should know-!"

Birgitta pushed him into the living room, and pointed to the door. "I'm done with this! You go and take my ass to court, Arthur Kirkland, but you remember that Peter will have something to say, and if you think providing means money, then you're wrong!"

"And what does providing mean?" Arthur ask, slipping on his shoes, hand on the door knob.

"Providing means," Birgitta pushed her glasses up, her eyes narrowed. "Love. It means staying up every night Peter was sick, no matter what I had to do the next day, because I was scared he would die. It means that every time he wants to play, no matter how tired I was or what I needed to get done, I was there."

"Well, it also means-!"

"And even Mathilde provides to Peter more than you!" shouted his ex, pointing down the hall. "Every time she came home sick as a dog or she was tired, she would always make time to read a story to Peter. No matter what happens to her, she always tries to make it the best for him. She was letting him help her decorate her cupcakes today when she fainted.

"Peter may have it better with you, money wise," she reminded. "But here, he has it the way he wants. We function like a family- one you'll never be a part of!"

Arthur opened the door and slammed it shut. Birgitta growled and collapsed on the sofa, sighing loudly. From the hallway, a pair of sea blue eyes widened as he turned around, tiptoeing down the hall and into a small room. He stepped over the various articles of clothing, fearing one of them might be a bra or underwear, and he climbed into the large bed. "Aunt Tilly?"

A groan, as she picked her head up, a look of pain flashing across her face. "What up, Peter?"

"It's Mama." Mathilde forced herself to sit up, allowing the boy to crawl into her lap. As awkward as it was for him, being there in the room with his aunt, who slept in only a sports bra and spandex, he didn't care all that much. "Jerk Kirkland is gonna try and take me!" She reached over to the small lamp by her bedside and flicked it on.

"No, he's not," Mathilde rolled her eyes. "Birgie and I won't have it."

"He says Mama can't provide…"

"Your mother provides a lot…"

"I know!" the young boy crossed his arms and pouted. "He said she couldn't care for me because she already has to look after you!" At this, Mathilde paled, her heart stopping. "Tilly?"

"Ya?"

"What's wrong with you?" asked the curious boy, her sky blue eyes locked on the wall. "Mama was awfully concerned. Mama never takes me to the ER unless she thinks it's bad. She always takes you to the ER."

"Peter," Mathilde sighed, shaking her head. "I'll tell you soon, okay? I'm tired. But I want you to remember something… smoking kills."

"It does?"

"For some people, yes."

"Tilly?"

"Yes?"

"Is it going to kill you?"

A long, awkward silence followed that question. Peter looked like he was about to cry. "Don't worry, kid. I'm going to kick it's ass from here to China if it tries to." They smiled and she hugged her nephew, unaware that outside the room, Birgitta was listening, silently crying as their conversation ended.

"_All you ever wanted was someone to find the truth you hide from everyone deep inside._"

* * *

><p><em>Hahahaha. So basically, the next chapter, is going to be more interaction between Lukas and Mathilde, as well as Tino and Birgitta.<em>

_Basically, and more about this will be revealed later, Ingrid is Iceland and Norway's mom. She's married to the made up father of my Greenland OC, Malik._

_Arthur is not a dick... I hated writing him like this... he does care for them, I swear!_

_Lots of... crap here. Better chapter coming soon._

_There's going to be a lot of family stuff in this fic. I'll explain it later on._


	5. Track V: Let Love In

_**A/N;;**__ Chapter five! Kudos to all who reviewed/fav/alerted/etc~_

_So… I promised some slight Nor/Fem!Den here, right? You can judge if I kept that promise._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track V**  
><em>Let Love In<em>

"It's Friday." The statement was bland, groggy, and rough, mostly because the person who said it had just woken up. Lukas looked over at his brother, dark circles underneath Emil's violet orbs. Lukas nodded, and watched as his brother stumbled into the chair, sitting across from the Norwegian. His attention went back to the piece of paper he was writing on.

"Are you going to the grave?" Emil asked, giving a yawn. Lukas nodded, sipping his coffee and writing down one thing or another. "Then are you and Tino going out drinking?"

Lukas nodded again, so Emil asked, "Do you still have to work late?" Another nod, and Lukas' gaze went from the papers to Emil, slowly, as he asked, "What time will you be back?"

"Why does it matter?"

Emil looked down, and began to draw shapes on the table absentmindedly. He shrugged, and looked up, saying, "Well, you know…" he drifted off. "I need to know if I should make dinner for you and all…"

"Yeah, just like," Lukas blinked, feeling slightly uneasy about the reasoning, but didn't question it at all. "Leave the leftovers in the fridge and I'll… heat them up later." Standing up, the man took his cup of coffee and left it in the sink. "Emil, what were you doing up last night?"

Since his back was turned to his younger brother, Lukas missed the Icelander flinch. "Oh, uhm, what do you mean?"

"I heard you get up last night," Lukas replied, turning around. "You went into the bathroom…"

"Oh!" smiling, Emil rolled his eyes. "I got sick! It was something I ate." Emil nodded, tugging at the long sleeves on his shirt. "Don't worry about it."

Lukas blinked, unsure of what to say, but then looked at the clock. "Okay, I'm going. Have a good day, Emil."

"Bye, Lu."

Emil watched as his brother left the kitchen, listened as he walked out the door, started his car, and drove off. The silver haired male blink, then let out the breath he was holding, slamming his head onto the counter top. "Fuck…"

* * *

><p>"Lukas, I don't think transferring this woman to me is necessary."<p>

It was at break when the Finnish man was informed that Lukas had met with the crazy Danish drunk's stepsister, and because she was much more understanding than the other, he was able to calmly discuss with her the predicament she was in and that she needed to be transferred over to his friend, who worked on the case directly.

"It's a pretty open and shut case," Tino continued, his indigo eyes glued to the chip in his hands, examining it before putting it in his mouth. "I mean, the woman stole her mother's identity, pretty much."

"She wants to pursue the issue," Lukas frowned. "I'm not gonna have her go and complain to Louise about how much of a dick I am- presuming the Dane didn't already do that."

Tino glanced at his phone, typing something in as he replied to the statement given. "I don't see why. Louise would agree. It's pretty much finished."

"Look," two cobalt eyes glanced at the device in his friend's hand. "I've got about seven reports to give and a shit ton documents to file and send out. Let's not bitch to me about making you actually _work_, Tino." He takes the phone from his friend's hand. "Besides, your girlfriend can wait."

"Hey!" reaching for the phone, Tino pouted, and Lukas glared. "This is a personal conversation!"

"You've known her for two weeks," the Norwegian sighed. "It's can't be insanely personal."

"It is too! Now give me back my phone." Snatching it from his friend, the Finn smiled. "Anya says she wants to take things a step further tomorrow for our date."

"And then you end up breaking up a week later." Tino frowned, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Ti. I've known you for years. We went to school together- I know you and her won't last that long."

"And what about you, Mr. Asexual?"

"I'm just waiting."

"Come on," Tino shook his head. "You are almost thirty years old. This waiting shit? Not working. But I know this is different."

"Why? Because Anna…"

"Anya."

"The Russian freak made you wait a week longer before you sleep with her?" Tino's glance trailed away from the Norwegian, toward the door of the cafeteria, eyeing a pretty little blonde with green eyes and a ribbon in her short hair. "Forget it, Ti. She's completely off limits."

"Isn't that Vash's sister?"

"Yeah, and not only that," frowning, Lukas snapped his fingers. "She's dating Abel. Abel? You know, _Emma_'s brother? Vash's girlfriend. Your ex."

"She's too young."

"Got that right," sighed Lukas. "She's a friend of Emil. They have a class together or something."

"Emil… how is he?"

And Lukas honestly couldn't say. Emil and him hardly talked to each other, especially on days like today, where Lukas would stumble into the house late at night and try to attempt conversation with his somewhat antisocial brother, only to get blunt answers and statements that Lukas usually didn't understand.

"I don't know, fine, I guess…" Tino smiled and looked back at him. Lukas didn't mention his extreme dislike for his new friend, Kiet, the one who seemed to be at his house more than Lukas wanted him to. "Anyway, I'm gonna go."

"Yeah, I should probably prepare the office for the meeting," Tino frowned. 'Can't look to… what?" Lukas was giving him a look of disbelief. "I can't look presentable for a client?"

"You didn't look presentable _at all_ for the last guy you spoke to." Lukas watched his friend glare turn deadly, and he smiled, grabbing his water bottle and walking away.

* * *

><p>"Miss Oxenstierna," the secretary called, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. "He'll see you now." She sighed, adjusting her glasses and standing up. She nodded a thanks and walked into the office, opening the door slightly.<p>

The man at the desk was smiling at her. "Please, come in!" he smiled, motioning to the empty chair in front of him. She closed the door slowly, then walked over to the chair, sitting down, and instinctively crossing her legs.

Tino ran a hand through his bleach blond hair, smiling. "Now, Miss Oxenstierna, what seems to be the problem?" She inhaled deeply, and Tino looked at the dirty blonde woman, tapping his pen against his desk.

"It's about my account," she began, only to be cut off by the Finn.

"Miss, I understand your position," he said, smiling at her, trying to be polite. "But it is a case of fraud. There is no way to debate this. You used your mother's name and other account number and-."

"That's why I called her," the woman said, flipping her hair and glaring. "She wants to meet with you so she can make it authorized that we do get some money out of it."

Tino's eye twitched. Never before had this ever happened. It was always open and shut. But never had someone gone to such lengths. "Miss, I-."

"I assume you are free Sunday afternoon?" she smiles, and his heart stops. She's pretty. "That's the only day I can find a sitter for my son. My mom will be done with church by then." He nodded, and sighed, pulling out his calendar.

"I need contact information," he frowns, obviously upset about the extra amount of work he has to do.

"Birgitta Oxenstierna," her dark blue eyes sparkled in delight and relief as she gave him her phone number. "You can reach me today after five, if needed." She adjusted the flower clip in her hair, Tino's eyes glued to Birgitta is. "Thank you for your time, sir."

"When did you contact your mother?" Tino asked, watching the tall female stand up.

"Uhm," she frowned, thinking. "I contacted her when I met with Mr. Thomassen. He said that…"

"Thank you," he nodded. "I look forward to Sunday." It was a lie, but he flashed her one last pretty smile and she flushed, rubbing her arm and walking out of the room. As soon as the door was closed, the Finn's smile disappeared and he sighed.

"I'm going to kill you, Lukas."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean that we aren't going out tonight?" Lukas crossed his arm, his jacket slung over his shoulder as the two left their office building, Tino obviously pissed off about one thing or another. "What did I do now?"<p>

"You told the Oxenstierna girl…"

"Only because," Lukas frowned, shaking his head and rubbing his temples, "it's the honest truth. It's a loophole. Alva Oxenstierna was informed from a third party source her identity was stolen- therefore, she was unaware of the extent of it. Birgitta had yet to confront her, so in this case-."

"Well thanks to you I have to work on Sunday!" Tino spat. "That's unholy."

"When were you religious?"

"As of one-thirty this afternoon, thank you very much!" Walking over to his car, he turned it on, looking at the clock. "Six o'clock. Where did the day go?"

"It left when we agreed to work here."

"You didn't want this job," Tino reminded, and Lukas nodded. "Look… uhm… Sunday, we can like, hang or something…"

"You can come over for dinner…" Lukas sighed, shoving his free hand in his pocket. "Talk to you soon."

"See ya, Lu." Lukas walked away and toward his own car, sighing loudly as he unlocked it, slowly getting in and sitting there, calmly. He opened his glove compartment, pulling out a picture of a man and a baby.

He dropped the picture onto the dashboard and started the car, driving off to the cemetery.

* * *

><p>"<em>Nu vil jeg lægge mig ned for at sove<em>," mumbled a voice lightly, reciting the prayer her father would always say to her. "_Jeg beder Herren min sjæl til at holde._" She knelt by the gravestone, running her fingers over the Danish words written on it. "_Hvis jeg skulle dø før jeg vågner, jeg beder Herren min sjæl til at tage._" Her mouth became dry, her eyes watering with tears. "_Hvis jeg skulle leve en anden dag, jeg beder Herren vil guid min vej._"

"Hey," she whispered, almost expecting a reply like when she was little. "Dad?" she asked quietly, listening as the wind blew leaves past her. "Was it worth it?" she asked, her voice becoming bitter. "Was it worth your life?"

Wiping blue eyes, she glared at the stone. "Mads Densen. They usually put stuff on it… loving father, caring husband… where's your title? What were yoo?" she smirked, laughing darkly. "Oh wait… never mind. Because every day, the first ten years of my life, yoo reminded me why you weren't going ta get a title."

Her lips trembled. "Yoo always said I wasn't worth it… yoo told me, 'Mathilde, you're never going ta be anything great, so why bother with an education?' So yoo practically killed yourself, just because you didn't get the son yoo always wanted…

"But yoo know what's funny?" she smiled, chocking on her tears. "I admired yoo. I looked up ta yoo. Yoo were my hero. I just thought yoo were trying ta teach me tough love, because yoo knew I'd be left with Mom… yoo knew I'd need ta watch out for myself because she was too self-absorbed to care…

"I took after yoo so much," she finally didn't care about the tears and let them fall. "Mom hated it. She'd scream at me, just because I gave her the same dirty looks yoo gave her. Yoo may not like it, but you made me who I was… am… I still bake, because that's the only thing ya liked about me."

Gripping the ground, she shook. "And because I admired yoo so, I decided everything ya did was so cool. Why didn't anyone tell me? Why didn't I listen to those lectures in school?"

Footsteps were approaching and she coughed, sobbing to herself, trying to finish the thought. "Yoo taught me that prayer. Because when yoo were dying, yoo recited it every night. I do that now too. I even taught it to Peter, because…"

The footsteps grew closer, sounding like they were almost right behind her, but she thought nothing of it. "I'm never gonna be a mother," she whispered, "but if I was, I know one thing I would do… treat them better than yoo and mom treated me."

She began to wail, curling up practically into a ball. "Hey," someone whispered, kneeling down next to her, stroking her back. "Miss? You alright?"

"I'm fine!" she screamed, popping up and pushing the man away. She wiped her eyes and looked, shocked to see the guy she talked to yesterday, the Norwegian from the office. She frowned, and reached into her pocket, pulling out a little rag, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

"Excuse me for trying to be polite…" the light blond haired male stood, and Mathilde just glared. "Hey… it's you." He offered his hand but she smacked it away.

"It's rude ta eavesdrop, ya know." She tied to stand up, only to stumble backwards. "Damn…" Lukas frowned and took her hands, pulling her up, his cobalt eyes on her.

"Are you okay?" he didn't release her wrists. She rolled her red eyes, sniffling just a bit. "Hey… look, it's all solved if you're still bitter…"

"I don't care," she spat and shuddered, looking away. "Why are yoo here?"

He snorted in annoyance. It _was_ a public place. Why did she need to know his reasons? He released her wrists, walking away from her. "Hey! I was talkin' ta yoo!" stomping after him, the Dane huffed as soon as he stopped, right in front of a large headstone. "Who's this?"

"None of your business," turning away from the grave, he shot her a dirty look. "For someone who doesn't like me, you could… leave?" he suggested, unsure of what he wanted to say when he saw the way her eyes were narrowed in thought. She was still shaking and crying.

"Marcus Bondevik.." The name sounded almost pure on her lips. "Is he your father?" Lukas turned and sat down, sighing loudly. "Oh… I'm sorry."

"What about you?" he asked, fiddling with a rock nearby him. "Was that your father?"

Nodding, she spoke, "Sometimes I wish he wasn't." Lukas turned to stare at her; she walked over and sat down next to him. "He died when I was ten, and I used ta think he was amazin'. He was in the navy and all…"

"So what made you feel that way?" Lukas tried to wrap the idea of him talking to this strange female. "I mean…"

"It just…" Mathilde looked at the grave, biting her lip. "It was the way he raised me. He really wanted a boy, but my mom and he had such a hard time conceivin', and when they finally did..."

"Was he abusive?"

"Not physically." She motioned to the grave. "What's his story?" Lukas frowned, pulling out a picture from his pocket, and handing it to him. "Is this…?"

"He was my mom's boyfriend," explained the Norwegian, sighing as he smiled. "She was insanely in love with him, more than she ever has in any of her relationships. It was so weird- when she would talk about him to me, she'd get this look in her eye… they never got married, but they both wanted it."

Mathilde nodded and he continued, "Anyway, he was a musician. He would come around, and sometimes he'd take me to the studio and have me record a piano playing for him or something. He used a lot of them as samples…

"Well, I was sixteen and I had just gotten my license. Mom was fighting with her husband, my brother's father. I decided to drive to my dad's house and see him and get away. Well… it turns out my dad wasn't as happy as he appeared- he was always so busy and my mom married Stefan, who rarely let me see my dad- and I walked in…"

He blinked, inhaling. "And he was just lying there. I knew something was wrong and I called 911…" he snorted. "They arrived and pronounced him dead on the scene. He had shot himself. I found his letter to me and the letter to my mom. I gave her the letter and read mine…"

"What did it say?"

"…it said he was sorry he couldn't always be there. He wanted to be the father he had when he was my age. He said he loved me and… he said that no matter what, I need to keep my mom safe." He sighed, watching from the corner of his eye as she wiped her own.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, hugging her knees to her chest.

"So every Friday I come down here and see his grave. Sometimes I talk to him and sometimes I just sit in silence. Other days I take my iPod and listen to all his songs he's ever made." He turned to her. "What about you?"

"I come down here when I need to vent," she admits honestly, sniffling. They sit there in silence, the only sounds they make is when she whimpers or breathes heavily to stop herself from crying or when he gives a deep, heavy sigh.

He finally asks, "Are you okay? I mean, since you fainted in my office and all…"

"I'm fine." She was lying and he could tell. "What's your name?"

He hesitated when she asked this and finally, he replied, "Lukas. Lukas Thomassen."

"Do yoo remember my name?" she asked. He frowned and closed his eyes in thought.

"Ma- Matilda?"

"No," she laughed. "Mathilde Densen. Though, Birgie calls me Thilde and her son calls me Tilly." She smiled, pulling out a wallet and holding up a picture. "His name is Peter Kirkland. He legally resides with us…" she mumbled the last part. Lukas looked at the bright eyed child.

"He's looks like a nice kid," Lukas observed and sighed. "I have no pictures of Emil… my brother. He's nineteen though, and he's in college."

"What's he studyin'?"

"Not sure yet, but he wants to be a psychologist."

"Birgie is studyin' music education," she smiled, but frowned. "We needed that account so bad. She can't afford college and a kid and me-."

"What do you do for a living?" he asked curiously, cutting off her train of thought. "I mean… do you work?"

"I used ta be a baker," Mathilde smiled. "I went ta culinary school and studied like, deserts and stuff…"

"Used?" he asked as she zoned out.

"I had ta retire early," she admitted, frowning. "I still go inta my old boss' bakery on Sundays and help out. It makes a li'l bit of money."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty," she frowned, rubbing the back of her head. "You can't tell…"

"Your stepsister looks older than you."

"My stepsister _acts_ older than me." Rolling her eyes, she checked her phone, biting her lip. "I better get home. I'll see you around?"

Lukas blinked, watching as Mathilde shakily stood. He stood up as well, asking, "Uhm… did you drive here or…?"

"No," she pointed over to a large apartment complex. "I live over there." She smiled and laughed, walking away. She turned around and waved, Lukas giving a slight wave back to her. As soon as she was out of sight, he looked down at the grave.

"Dad," he asked, shoving the picture into his pocket. "Is it me or is this going to change my life?"

Something made him feel that his father was just as unsure and scared about this as he was.

"_You're the only one I ever believed in.  
>The answer that could never be found the moment you decided to let love in<br>Now I'm banging on the door of an angel.  
>The end of fear is where we begin the moment we decided to let love in."<em>

* * *

><p><em>I love this chapter right now. I originally had them in his office, Mathilde being like, hyper active and shit, but like, I found that completely unrealistic and too cliché. The entire chapter, save the beginning of the graveyard meeting, was rewritten. I had some extra things about Lukas' past, nothing about Tino's womanizing ways, and actually had Birgitta with Mathilde in the graveyard as the beginning.<em>

_This turned out much better._

_I loved the idea of this, with Lukas being… well, Lukas and Mathilde actually being serious. Don't worry, she's going to be a little less OOC in chapters to come._

_The Danish is the translation of the "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" prayer/poem thing._

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.  
>If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.<br>If I should live another day, I pray the Lord to guide my way.

_However, I did use Google translate, so it probably isn't 100% accurate. Sorry if it isn't._

_Long ass note is long. Who reads this gets a cookie!_

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	6. Track VI: Slide

_**A/N;;**__ Here's chapter six!_

_Again, love to those who love this… or just like it. I still love the feedback and all that jazz._

_No Lu and Thilde here, but we get to see our two subplot stars!_

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track VI**  
><em>Slide<em>

_Friday; Eight at Night_

"You got here late," Emil replied, shutting off the water and watched the male sit on the tub behind him. The Icelander began to brush his teeth, watching the Thai's expression turn into something angry and annoyed. "Whub?" he asked, returning the glare the other was now giving him.

"I can't believe you!" shouted Kiet, watching the male spit out the toothpaste and continue to brush his teeth like nothing was wrong. "You know," he twitched, "You're a real fucking dick sometimes."

"And you're high," Emil retorted calmly. "Smooth. You know…"

"Shut up," hissed the Asian standing up and walking out of the bathroom, slamming the door. Emil spit again and washed the toothbrush and left the room as well. He returned downstairs where he saw his (secret) boyfriend slamming his head into the wall.

"You promised you'd stop!"

"I did!" Kiet shouted loudly as the Icelandic male rolled his eyes. "I did… but the pains… holy shit it was bad."

"You call me a dick," whispered the silver haired male, smirking. "But I've begged you'd repeatedly to stop with the heroin. That shit is deadly…"

"And bulimia isn't?" Emil bit his lip, watching as the Thai resumed his actions of slamming his head into a wall. "I'm sorry, I'm a little on edge…"

"Good, good. Great excuse." Kiet slid down the wall, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He watched as the Icelander cough and join him against the wall. "It's just… Kiet, you know how hard it is to know one day you're going to be your normal self, but the next you could either be pissy or you could be depressed and…"

"I get it," Kiet huffed, laying his head on the younger's shoulder. "It's bad, I know. But Emi…"

"Don't say anything…"

"Fair is fair," Kiet sighed. "You know it's worrisome when I go to hug you, touch you, or anything else related to that, I notice there's _less_ of you? You know how scared I get when I'm hugging your or when I'm thinking about sleeping with you?"

"No…"

"I'm afraid I'll break you," Kiet frowned. Emil turned his head and Kiet lifted his. "I love you."

"…love you." Emil's body shook as Kiet leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. He pulled Emil into his lap, refusing to break their contact and pulled him closer, afraid he'd get up and leave or something like that. "Emi…" he gasped for air, pulling away for a second.

"What time is it?"

"Does it matter?" laughed Kiet, and Emil smiled, placing his hands on his shoulders and pulling him into another deep kiss, this time letting it evolve into something more. Kiet leaned back onto the floor, taking Emil with him. "Em?"

"What?" asked the Icelander, receiving kisses on his jaw from the Thai man.

"Say Lukas found out or you tell him…" Emil snorted. "Shut up, this is serious! Anyway… what would you do?"

"I'd say runaway." Kiet blinked, his jaw hanging open, making his lover giggle. "Well, at least that would be my first reaction." He ran his hand down the other's chest, and Kiet really looked at the other. He studied him, drinking in every detail.

His eyes were dark from lack of sleep, his body thinner than five days ago, his hair shining like it always did. Somehow, it made him feel uneasy.

"I'm-."

"You're not going to-."

"I can't," Kiet mumbled, sitting up, leaning his head into the other's chest. "I'm sorry, but I can't," he mumbled into the fabric of the white shirt. Emil sighed, shaking his head and stroking the other's hair, mumbling to himself in Icelandic. "Not tonight…"

"Do you want me to tell Lukas?"

Kiet tensed up in surprise, biting his lip. "I mean…" Kiet began to think of how to phrase this. "The reason why I can't touch you isn't because of that, but… I'd prefer you did." Smiling, the Thai hugged his boyfriend tightly, causing the Icelander to smile slightly. "Thanks."

"No problem," he kissed the other's forehead, and sighed. Dark chocolate eyes were glazed over in appreciation and the feeling of a high he probably had. Emil pushed Kiet's glasses up. They stayed like this for a while, until the front door cracked open. Kiet went wide, and Emil jumped up.

"Did you find your glasses?"

"Y-yeah!" Kiet shouted, popping up and acting like he was adjusting them, only to see the Norwegian brother in the doorway. "Hi, Lukas! You're home!"

"Good," Lukas growled. "You can comprehend."

"Lukas." Emil's voice was short and sharp- like a mother scolding her child. "Thanks for helping me with algebra, Kiet." He sounded so fake when he said that, but Kiet just nodded and smiled. "I'll see you Monday?"

"Of course," he laughed, walking toward the door and past Lukas. "Bye, Lukas!" he waved then closed the door. Lukas looked over at his brother. Emil sighed.

"What were you two doing?"

"We went over some algebra problems and I took his glasses off…" he began to fabricate another lie, knowing he should be telling him the truth about how there was no real "studying" going on unless it was part of human biology or some class that teaches you about drugs or disorders. "So he tackled me and they flew into the living room and…"

"Why did he tackle you?"

"Were you listening?" Emil snapped. "You're home early. Tino get you kicked out?"

"No," replied the older brother, walking into the kitchen and setting his brother's books aside as he pulled out the pot of pasta from the fridge. "He wasn't pleased with me because I made him actually _work_ today and as a result he has to meet with this client on Sunday… then he's coming over for dinner."

"Oh, fun…" Emil sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, how was your day?"

"Boring…"

"How was the grave?" Lukas tensed at this question. He could tell Emil he met the girl from Thursday there and they shared sob stories and many other things, but he didn't want his brother thinking he was secretly dating some kind of psycho.

"Quiet." Lukas frowned as Emil nodded, and just as he turned his back, Lukas asked, "What about you? How was class?"

"Good."

"I saw Erika today."

"Yeah, Abel works in the cafeteria at your work."

"Does that disturb you?" asked Lukas, and Emil rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the same time.

"No," he replied. "Because it's love. I don't care if Abel has the worse reputation this side of the prime meridian, but honestly… age has nothing to do with it. He treats her so well."

Emil sighed, crossing his arm, causing Lukas to rethink that sentence. "Emil," his tone was serious as he spoke. "If you ever, ever, _ever_ think about Kiettisuk Sripuy like the way Erika thinks about Abel- I can't even think of a way to say it! It's just... no. Just no." He hissed and headed up the stairs. "Not in my house- but you don't like him, right?."

"Not like that."

"Good," Lukas proceeded up the stairs, saying, "Never in my house."

Emil stood there until he heard the bedroom door slam. He bit his lip hard, making sure he was bleeding.

"But we've already been in your house," whispered the younger brother. "You just haven't figured it out yet."

* * *

><p><em>Sunday; Noon<em>

"Good afternoon, Mr. Väinämöinen," said an elderly looking woman with a strong, Swedish accent. He slides into the booth across from her and her daughter. The elderly woman has gray hair, twisted up into an elegant bun and a white sunhat.

"Hello to both of you," he gave another dazzling smile, hoping to charm his way through the entire thing. The old woman giggled and Birgitta flushed, looking away. A peppy waitress came up and took Tino and Birgitta's drink orders, but Alva didn't want anything. "So, you must be…?"

"Alva," the mother of Birgitta smiles. "I'm here to help my daughter with the account trouble and sign all the necessary paper work so it is no longer fraud." The waitress returned and handed them their drinks.

"Well, Alva," Tino opened his briefcase and took out a stack of papers, handing them over. "Read through it carefully, change whatever needs to be changed, add what needs to be added, and then you and Birgitta can sign the paper."

Tino watched as Alva took out her glasses, noticing her eyes were the same color as Birgitta's, yet they were two different people. While Alva was much friendlier, Birgitta was stand-offish. "Birgitta," Alva paused and showed her the paper, watching the Swede's eyes go wide and nod. "Okay, I'll mark that…"

"Does this extend to, uh, _legal_ troubles as well?" asked the young Oxenstierna female, and Tino bit his lip, nodding. "Thank you, sir."

"Legal troubles?" Alva asked, glancing up momentarily. "What happened?" Birgitta looked over at the Finn and then over at her mother, mouthing something he couldn't read. "Oh…" she frowned and began to speak ill of whatever her daughter had mouthed in Swedish. Birgitta quietly replied and the conversation came to a lull.

Indigo eyes locked with the dark navy blue ones of the younger female. He smiled and she frowned. "And… done!" Passing the paperwork to Birgitta, Alva stood up and straightened the skirt of her dress. "I'm sorry to leave so suddenly. I have prior engagements." Waving goodbye to the two, she left. Birgitta took the pen and began to carefully scan everything over twice; she didn't have room for mistakes.

"She's a nice woman," Tino observed.

"Slightly ditzy, but I love her all the same," the Swedish woman flipped the page, Tino sipping his soda slowly.

"You have a son?"

"Yes," Birgitta looked up, her own glasses sliding down her nose. She adjusted them, asking, "Why do you ask?"

"Is the father…?"

"Yes," Birgitta hissed in annoyance. "He's still around… not like he's always there with us and we live together, but you know…"

"He's just around?"

"Sadly, yes," she looked back down at the papers, and flipped it again, sighing something and continuing to read. "He's twelve."

"He's young…" Tino smiled. "Young enough to enjoy life before you have to worry about him chasing after pretty girls." Birgitta nodded, and Tino examined her. "You're young too."

"I've been too young a lot in my life." The statement sent chills down Tino's spine, and he sighed, watching her sign a few more times. "Too young to be almost six feet in high school, too young to be a mother, too young to have been able to walk into a liquor store growing up and by booze for my ex and his friends…"

"Sounds like a childhood," the Finn smiled, earning a chuckle from Birgitta, her lips curling up into her own glamorous smile. "I was always too old. Too old to look like I was seven, too old to keep getting ID'd at a night club, too old to-."

"You look young," she frowned, trying to play the mental guessing game. "I'm guessing twenties?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Same," she went back to a small smile as her expression, and Tino gave a mental sigh. "Finished." Holding out her hand, she had a very businesslike posture. "Thank you for taking the time here, Mr. Väinämöinen."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "I hope the best for you and your family, Birgitta."

"You too, Mr. Väinämöinen." They both stood up and she began to walk away. He put down a small tip, then his mind commanding him to do something.

"Wait up!" he yelled, catching her before she drove away. He leaned over, watching the window of the car go down. "Call me… anytime. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Mr. Väi-."

"And one last thing," he held up his hand. "Call me Tino."

She looked down, her small smile growing, making her light up with this pretty glow. "Okay… Tino." He stepped back and watched her drive away, his heart going berserk inside of his chest. He ran his hand through his silky blond hair, hoping she would take him up on that offer.

…wait, never mind, he had a girlfriend.

But what was wrong with being friends? What was wrong with wanting to help her?

Shrugging, Tino pulled out his phone, seeing a text from Anya. He shrugged, ignoring it, and walked down the street to find his car.

"_I wanna wake up where you are.  
>I won't say anything at all.<br>So why don't you slide?"_

* * *

><p><em>I needed a filler chapter between Sunday and Monday.<em>

_SO DRUGS ARE BAD SO DON'T DO THEM OKAY? Also bulimia is very bad and if you know somebody who refuses to get help, go get help for them. Drugs and/or bulimia will fuck you up._

_Uhm… Alva… is going to be comic relief later on. Actually, Birgitta and Alva aren't all that close, but that will be explained later on._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	7. Track VII: Postcards from Paradise

_**A/N;;**__ Let's see… what to say…_

_Again with finding a song. I didn't want to use any of the other ones I have picked out for various ideas for future chapters. So I kinda went with a bitter sweet song that has nothing to do with this chapter at all._

…_not like the songs had anything to do with any of the other chapters but they set the mood._

_Anyway, thanks for anything that involves good things for this story~ even when I see an alert or fav of this story I get happy. Reviews are nice, but even if I didn't get a single one I'd love this story with all my heart, because I'm a writer, and that's what I do!_

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track VII**  
><em>Postcards from Paradise<em>

"And then she said I wasn't cool because…" Birgitta blocked her son out as the Dane appeared in the small kitchen, yawning and stretching. "Hi, Tilly!"

Groggily messing up Peter's neat hair, she took her seat and watched as her stepsister got up and opened their refrigerator. She handed the older female a drink, watching as she made a face of disgust. "Man up, Mathilde," Birgitta chided. "It can't taste that bad."

"You wanna bet?" Mathilde stood up, and pulled out two more bottles of the drink she was forced to drink. "Energy shakes taste like shit."

"They're good for you," Birgitta rolled her eyes as she took one from Mathilde. Peter hesitantly took the other one from the hand of the Dane. They all opened their drinks, Mathilde being the first to take a drink, Birgitta the second, and Peter taking a little sip.

Peter gagged from the little bit he had. Mathilde watched as Birgitta made a face of disgusts, but obviously trying to hide it so Mathilde wouldn't be proven right. "Taste like shit, no?"

"Okay," Birgitta licked her lips, walking over to the sink and dumping the rest of it out and watching as the messy blonde at the table smirked. "It's not the _best_ tasting thing to hit the health market…"

"_All_ medicine is nasty, Mama." Peter's eyes narrowed in thought, turning to Mathilde, asking, "Is this making you better?" Mathilde and Birgitta both visibly tensed, and Peter frowned. "You've gotta get better! Okay?"

"I will," and with that, the Dane gave a weak smile. The young boy's frown did not vanish. "Peter, I promise, it's going to be alright. It's not really my choice anymore, but I'm doing what I can."

"But whose choice is it?"

"…God's," Mathilde mumbled, looking over at the boy's mother, who seemed slightly annoyed. "And if he wants me to go to that paradise in the clouds with him, I can't say no." Peter smiled and closed his eyes, probably envisioning the outcome of Mathilde in heaven.

"Will you write?"

"Always." Birgitta walked over and kissed her son's forehead, looking over at her stepsister. "Anyway, looks like Mama's ready to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Bye, Tilly!" Birgitta walked to the closet and handed her son his jacket, sliding on her own coat as they left their apartment building in a hurry to the car. "Mama?"

"Yes?" she asked as they both slid into the car, listening as the rain poured down, hitting to metal in a rhythmic pattern. Peter looked out the window, enjoying the sight of the rain making everything blend together in a blur. "Peter?"

"I was thinking," he frowned. "If Jerk takes me away, who's going to help make sure Tilly's okay?" Birgitta frowned, the thought having yet occurred to her. Peter _had_ always been a big help with Mathilde. "I mean… you don't have…"

"Don't worry," Birgitta whispered, fighting back the urge to start crying. "You're not going anywhere."

* * *

><p>"So how was the meeting?" Lukas was currently sitting in his chair at the office, a picture of his father in his hands, this one taken when he was seven. Tino noticed the picture had a calming effect on his friend. The Finn shrugged his shoulders.<p>

"It was alright," he admitted, and Lukas smirked. "Her mom was super nice, she seemed okay…" Tino couldn't help but feel a little bit antsy about the subject. "She's got it hard, that Dane was not exaggerating when she said that."

"Mathilde."

Tino's eyes widened, he leaned forward, asking, "What?"

"Her name is Mathilde," Lukas said this with little emotion, his eyes fixated on the picture. "I, uh… I met her Friday night when I went to the cemetery." Tino quirked an eyebrow, mentally telling him to continue. "I guess… I don't know. I guess she's just not…"

"A drunk?"

"I don't think so," Lukas sighed, putting the picture in his desk. "I mean, honestly, you have to have no class to go out mid-afternoon and get shitfaced." Tino laughed, and Lukas quickly changed the subject. "How was Anya?"

Slowly he stopped laughing, a perverted grin crossing his face. "Good, in both ways."

"Womanizer," Lukas sighed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly what do they see in you?"

"Charismatic, kind, good in bed-."

"I didn't need an actual answer." Lukas threw his pen at his friend. Tino fumbled around, catching it just barely.

"We're going out for lunch today," smiled the Finn, making his friend's eyes grow wide. "You'll live without me for one day, right?" he joked.

"No," the Norwegian frowned, crossing his arm. "Mostly because everyone here is a damn stick in the mud- and those who aren't are kind of dicks."

"What about Hera Karpusi?"

"If she even wakes up-." Lukas rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "Besides, she hangs out with Keiko Honda, and she's kind of a snitch when it comes to the boss."

"Do you think Hera and Keiko are like, together?"

"Why? Hera reject you earlier?" Tino nodded in response to the question, and Lukas frowned. "It's whatever, dude. So Hera and Keiko swing left handed while you swing right. You still have Francis- he swings both ways."

They stared at each other, erupting into fits of laughter. "Okay, well, that wasn't awkward," Tino pouted. "And besides, I have Anya… God, if you met her…"

"I meet a lot of your girlfriends," Lukas mumbled. "The problem is never them," he pointed out, and Tino frowned. "Shouldn't you be in your office?"

"Slow day."

Lukas snorted in response. "I should've complicated that case for you."

"Mr. Väinämöinen?" the albino secretary opened the door, crossing her arms. "Miss Braginskaya is here."

"Thanks Gillie!" Tino chimed, standing up and walking by the (taller) female, winking at her. The secretary made a face of disgust. "What?"

"That's my boyfriend's half-sister, kid," she snapped, walking away. Tino paled and Lukas couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

><p>"Hello, little one." Mathilde Densen sat in the boring little waiting room, a look of despair painted across her face. She was an impatient person, no doubt, but the fact this creepy ass female sat down next to her and was now trying to start a legitimate conversation made it worse.<p>

"Uhm… hi?" No one had really lectured her about the joys of not talking to strangers.

"I'm Ivana," smiled the tall, doll like girl. "You will call me Anya, da?" Blinking, Mathilde locked eyes momentarily. She had big, purple eyes that could possibly (if this was even possible at all) be bigger than her nose.

"Uh, sure," the Dane frowned, adverting her gaze elsewhere.

"And what is your name, hm?" she asked, flipping her pale blonde hair like she was some super-mega-bitchasaurus rex. Mathilde made a mental note to call her B-Rex. "It's not polite to not introduce yourself, especially when I did myself."

"Mathilde." She almost added it was her choice whether or not she gave away her information because B-Rex looked like the kind of woman who would snap and murder you. Honestly, she didn't need to deal with a psycho Russian when she had her own problems.

"Why are you here, Mathilde?" Anya (B-Rex) asked, raising an eyebrow for no good reason (probably trying to figure out if she could get her alone in a dark alleyway at night).

"I'm here to see-."

"You're boyfriend?"

"N-no." Flushing, Mathilde crossed her arms. "He's more like a friend- er- acquaintance type of guy."

"I'm here to see my boyfriend," she admitted. Mathilde rolled her eyes. '_Well that's all fine and dandy but I could seriously give less of a fuck about that_,' the Dane thought bitterly, hoping the secretary called someone soon. Finally, she stood up and walked over to the office that Mathilde faintly remembered Lukas being in.

Coughing, he watched as a light, blond haired man with indigo eyes strolled up to Anya, the Russian attaching herself to his arm. "Goodbye, Mathilde!"

Mathilde waved, trying to subdue her coughing. The secretary (whom she learned was named Gillian and was a good friend of Abel von Klark, her friend) nodded her over and turned around, walking back to her desk. Smiling, she walked through the open doorway, ecstatically yelling, "Lukas~!"

Her hoarse voice made him jump; the Norwegian's shocked expression telling her he was extremely confused. Coughing, she smiled, sitting across from him and leaning over her knees. "I told you'd I see you around!"

"I didn't think that involved coming to my office when I'm neck deep in work."

"Ya have the right ta refuse ta see me." And he sighed in defeat, knowing she was right. "Aw~ you did want to see me?"

"What do you want?" he asked, rolling his eyes. She looked away just in time to not catch that gesture.

"Lunch," she stated, bluntly getting to the point. "We don't have ta even leave the building if ya want to get back to work so quickly."

Lukas frowned, not exactly sure why she wanted to each lunch with him. He figured since Tino left (ditched, he liked that word better) him to go hang out with his girlfriend, he'd have that one déjà vu moment where he'd pretend he was back in high school and eat alone.

Then again, high school sucked and at least here he had the option of sitting with someone. "Fine," he finally replied, frowning. "Not like I care if I stay or we go somewhere."

"Yoo hate working here, don't ya?"

Lukas froze, his mind going blink. He watched a scene from last the last Thanksgiving he and Emil went to at their mom's house, his mom was washing the dishes as he was putting leftovers in the containers. _"Do you really enjoy your job, Lu?"_

"_Why wouldn't I?" he asked, scrapping the salad into the plastic container. "It pays well, I'm kind of a boss, in a sense, and-."_

"_This isn't what you wanted," his mom frowned, her pale blue eyes dark from sleepless nights. "You-."_

"Hey, dude," he awoke to see her fingers in front of his face, snapping frantically. "Don't like, faint on me, 'kay?"

He nodded, stand up, and walking to the door. He turned around to see her still sitting, rubbing her knees. "You coming or what?" he asked, sounding a bit cross. She hummed in response and stood up, trying to masquerade the pain on her face. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she stretched out, arching her back. "Just a li'l bit sore." He opened the door and let her pass through first, following slowly afterwards.

* * *

><p>Dipping her fry into the ranch (Lukas found this extremely appealing, since he hated the smell of ketchup), she slowly bit the potato like food and chewed. Lukas sipped his soda quietly, watching as she cautiously swallowed the item in her mouth.<p>

Taking a drink of water her water, Lukas decided to break the silence, "You seem like the kind who would be addicted to caffeine- coffee, soda, even alcohol- not water." He watched as she began to think, probably deciding on how to respond to this statement.

"Coffee taste nasty," she responded. "And soda is bad for you- especially diet. And of course, alcohol is all self-explanatory."

"So you don't drink?" asked the light blond haired male, his eyes trying to see through any lies she threw out there.

"Well…" she hesitated, biting her lip. "Not anymore. Kids have those wild phases, you know. They drink and smoke and snort whatever they can get their little, greedy hands on. I was like that…"

"What made you, er, change so to speak?"

Her expression became a little bit less peppy and a little more hesitant, like she was trying to hide something. She hummed in content, then answered, "Well, I went to college and let my stepsister and her toddler move in with me. That helped."

She finished off the last of her fries and grabbed her cup. Lukas slowly stood up, watching as she followed, very slowly, looking as if she would cry. "Are you okay?"

"Really sore now." In spite of this, she put on her bravest smile and walked over to the garbage can, sliding the wrappers and such into the can. Lukas bit his lip and did so. "But I'm fine. I'm tough. I used to play hockey."

He didn't doubt that, but the way she talked about herself was unsettling- she used to have a fulltime job, she used to play hockey- it was all past tense. He went to school to be a writer, he knew about his tenses. But you don't press some stranger for information.

'_Then again, last time I checked,_' he thought bitterly, following her to the front door. '_You don't allow some stranger into your office to distract you and eat lunch with you_.'

"Where's your car?" She paused, stopping midway as she pushed the door opened. "…you don't have one?"

"I can take the bus," she smiled. "Birgie needs the car more than I do."

"Did you take the bus to get here?" She paled, shaking her head.

"N-no, I walked." She offered a nervous smile, turning on her heels and began to violently cough. Lukas' eyes widened as she hit her chest, causing the outburst to stop suddenly. "Swallowed something wrong, I guess?" she smiled, her hoarse voice causing him to shake. She waved and left the office, his head continuing to swim in thought.

This girl was strange.

* * *

><p>"Children who were sexually abused tend to lean toward drugs as a way to cope with their addiction."<p>

"Oh! Here's one: x times the negative square root of b to the fifth power, plus or mine five times a, all over four c minus the quantity of…"

"Kiet, shut up," Emil looked up from his book, glaring at the Thai who was kneeling on the floor, working on his math homework.

"Emil, I was not abused at all as a child," he sighed. "Maybe teased because I liked boys, but I tended to ignore that. I started doing drugs because everybody did them. Everybody still does them and everybody who does drugs will, most likely, die doing them."

"Do you see a problem with that last statement?"

"I see a problem with the book you're reading," Kiet groaned, rolling his eyes. He should've known that dating a future psychologist was a bad idea. "People do drugs for many reasons- for me, it's probably because all my friends did it, so I thought, 'Why the hell not?' Because it's all about peer pressure."

"The same can be said about any kind of addiction."

"So in the case of bulimia," the Thai began. "What are the causes of people being bulimic?"

When Emil didn't respond, Kiet laughed, getting up and sitting on his lap in the chair. "It means you're not confident. It means everybody else thinks you should be some kind of twig and you let them get to you. See? Peer pressure. The pressure is that they want you to be so skinny it's disgusting."

"So what do you do with peer pressure?"

"You tell me, _Dr. Steilsson_," Kiet smiled, kissing his boyfriend's temple. "Look, Emi, I've been thinking… I'm gonna be done with school next week… maybe I should go check out that rehab facility?"

"…what?" Emil mumbled, shocked at the sentence.

"I've decided that once you're done with college, we're getting married." Lacing their fingers together, Emil smiled and Kiet kissed his cheek. "And if we want to adopt, I need to be clean…"

"Thank you, Kiet!" Emil hugged him, and Kiet cleared his throat.

"However," he said, looking away from the Icelander. "You need to do something for me. You need to see a therapist or a doctor or someone. Okay?"

Emil's heart stopped. It was what was best, yes, but something told him to say no. Something was forcing him to nod in agreement, but mentally he was saying, '_If you're going to be gone then how would you know?_'

"Did you tell Lukas?"

"I will tonight," he replied.

"Are you going to tell him _everything_?"

"Define."

"Me being a junkie, you being bulimic." As a second thought, Kiet added, "And that we're both going to get help? And then when you're done with school we're getting married and immediately going to look into adoption?"

Smiling, Emil again gave a nod, but knew he was omitting certain parts of the story. "Thanks," the Thai kissed his Icelandic lover, who returned it with as much vigor as he could. When they broke apart, the Thai stood up, stretching out his legs, and grabbed his algebra book.

"Call me when you talk to him."

"I will." Emil walked over to the door, opening it and watching as the Thai walked out, waving goodbye to him. Emil gave a shy wave back, and as Kiet pulled out of the driveway, Lukas came in afterwards. Emil's heart pounded, remembering how Lukas responded Friday night, never actually getting around to talking to him about it.

Lukas walked through the open door, and Emil shut it. "Can we talk?" he asked, and Lukas nodded, dropping all his things on the floor and walking over to the sofa, stretching out. "Lukas…" he began to ramble on, "I'm dating Kiet. We've been dating behind your back for a while now. He's a total heroin addict."

Lukas' eyes narrowed, and he stood up. "I'm not done," Emil shouted. "Today he told me that next week after graduation, he's going to rehab. He's going to get clean so by the time I'm done with school we can get married and adopt."

Lukas said nothing. He just glared, walking over to the front door. "I'm going out." He practically ripped the door open and slammed it shut, causing the whole house to shake. Emil blinked, scratching his head, frowning.

"That actually went better than I was expecting," he admitted to himself. "Maybe there is a chance this is going to work out."

"_Postcards from paradise.  
><em>_Delivered by mortal hands.  
><em>_X marks the spot where you lay.  
><em>_Now the sun burns down on the sand."_

* * *

><p><em>Oh, Emil. Things aren't that simple… or are they? DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN.<em>

_Next chapter… hopefully better than this? Hopefully._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	8. Track VIII: Broadway

_**A/N;;**__ This chapter…_

_Is actually not how I planned it at all? Whoops. And it's shorter._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track VIII**  
><em>Broadway<em>

"So how did he take it?" Shifting the phone to his other ear, Emil sighed, shifting around in the bath tub. He wasn't taking a bath or anything, it was just he preferred to be in the bathroom in case the conversation turned ugly. He sighed, taking a bite of a brownie he had found, cringing as he swallowed it.

"Better than I would have expected."

"You mean he's okay with it?" Kiet's voice sounded like that of an angel's, to have so much hope for something that probably wasn't going to happen.

"I mean he just got up and left," Emil explained, practically _feeling_ the Thai's happiness stop radiating through the phone line. "I at least expected him to scream at me or something."

"You mean he didn't even react when you told him you're bulimic?"

Emil's heart stopped, he bit off the corner of the brownie, letting the silence soak in. He shifted again, looking up at the textured ceiling of white. He could hear Kiet sitting up in his bed- a bed he'd much rather be in that this uncomfortable tub- and make a noise of annoyance.

"You did tell him, right?" Another long, awkward silence followed that question. "Right?" the Asian repeated, this time a bit more distressed than before. Emil sighed loudly, finishing off the sweet in his hand. "You promised, Emil!"

"I couldn't."

"Don't give me that bull shit, I bet you didn't even try."

"Why should I?"

"Because you _promised_, Emil!" he screamed, making Emil jump fifty feet at his tone. "You are so damn lucky you're talking to me over the phone!" The Thai moaned, this time sounding like he was in pain. Emil bit his lip.

"It's not that easy," Emil whispered, listening as Kiet opened what sounded like a bottle of pills. "What's wrong?"

"Withdrawals," he murmured. "No worries, it's all good. I'm doing this for a good reason."

Emil could basically hear him thinking, '_Why can't you do the same?_'

"Look, Em, I need to sleep," Kiet whispered, apparently flopping back down on his bed again, causing the springs to squeak loudly. "You make sure you tell Lukas soon- or I will. Good night. I love you."

Emil frowned, clicking the phone's end button before whispering, "I love you, too." He sat up and put the phone on the counter, standing up and then kneeling down by the toilet. He sighed, praying and hoping to God Kiet wouldn't go through with his end of the threat.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Daddy," he slurred, blue eyes watching as the blurry and constantly moving grave in front of him-.<p>

Wait, graves didn't move. He was so drunk it wasn't even funny. In spite of this, he laughed like a maniac, causing something inside of him to snap. He felt like he was crying, but he wasn't. He never cried. He hasn't cried since he was sixteen. "Dad, why didn't you marry Mom?" he asked, taking a swig of the whisky by his side. "Everything would've been so different. I know I wouldn't be here, piss drunk, on your grave."

He spoke something in Norwegian, then said, "Then Emil wouldn't be here though…" frowning, he asked, "Then there would be no one to save Kiettisuk. The kid's an idiot- heroin is insane- but he doesn't deserve to die."

He gave a soft whistle, picking up a rock. "Then, chances are, I wouldn't be working at the office," he admitted. "And I would be living out my dream."

He took the last swig of whisky left in his flask, and tossed it aside. "And what was that dream?" a voice asked, taking a seat next to him. He turned and frowned, the Danish woman- who had invited herself into his life- sitting uncomfortably next to him.

"…what?" he asked.

"I asked," Mathilde repeated slowly, smiling a little bit. "What was that dream?" He frowned, looking away, and she began to pull at the grass. "Lukas?"

"…you'll laugh."

"No," she sighed. "I won't. I promise."

"…I wanted to be a writer." He frowned, crossing his arms and shifting so he was sitting cross-legged, somehow managing to stay balanced. He wobbled during this transition a bit, saying, "I could never find the right story. I wanted it to be real. I wanted it to be something people c-could pick up and say, 'Wow, I totally understand.' I wanted to be _that_ writer."

He snorted. She looked unchanged, nothing in her expression showing disdain. "I majored in English and everything, but I never could get off my feet. So my new stepdad decided to get me a job at a company- and I haven't left there since."

"So why don't yoo try again?"

"Because it's not what's expected of me." Lukas' tone grew louder, causing Mathilde to shudder. "When my mom married Emil's dad, he told me I needed a job. Not a career, a job. He told me I'd be much better off with a job. He told me the world wouldn't provide for a career…

"Then again," Lukas stared at the grave in front of him, his breathing all but stopped. "He couldn't stand the fact my mother still loved my father. Stefan didn't like me. Not one bit."

"So why did yoo listen ta him?" Mathilde asked, rolling her eyes. "Birgitta and my mom hate each other. Birgitta was told multiple times ta be something other than a music teacher and ta give up Peter… now they're a happy little family."

"And you?"

"Mom wanted me ta be a model," the Dane mumbled. "They told her I wasn't model material. I just wanted ta bake."

"…you also kind of picked your path earlier in life too." She tensed, and he clarified, "Ya know… you told me about your father wanting a boy and…"

"Oh yeah!" she gave a nervous chuckle. "Yoo could count that." Lukas attempted to stand up, only to stumble over- her weary eyes examining him as he laid on the ground. "I-."

"Sore?" he hummed, pushing himself up again. She nodded, standing up and rubbing her knees. "What happen?"

"Not sure," she mumbled, her eyes drifting to the grave. "Let's get yoo home…"

"No, let's not," he said, crossing his arms. "I don't wanna! I don't wanna see my stupid brother or go into my worthless job or…" he sat up, taking he hands and gently stepping up, making sure she didn't overexert herself more than she had to. "I don't want to be another person."

"Then don't," Mathilde offered a smile and Lukas returned it.

…then the Norwegian went limp and set the Dane off balance, both of the falling to the ground.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Mathilde got the drunk as a skunk Norwegian home, opening the front door and calling into the vacant house. "Hello? Anyone home? I brought back Lukas!"<p>

Emil had been upstairs, typing some kind of paper, only to hear the voice and glance at his clock. It was almost two in the morning! He hissed, slamming the laptop shut, stomping all the way downstairs. He saw a female with the spikiest blonde hair ever, his brother clinging to her arm like it was his security blanket. "I'm, uh… his friend. Mathilde."

"Emil." Mathilde examined him, and the first thing that came to mind was skinny. "Thanks for bringing him home… we kind of… well, it wasn't a fight…"

"I wanna talk to ya." Lukas pointed a finger at his brother as the Dane led him to the sofa. "Mathilde, go."

"Yoo gonna be alright?" Mathilde was obviously asking the silver haired brother, who gave her a silent nod, while Lukas went into a twenty page rant about how he was fine and how they would manage to live- somewhere dropping a few mentions on how he was more concerned about her because she was so sore or Emil because he was going to get whacked, but neither took this all too seriously.

"Goodbye," she waved, walking out of the comfy home and quietly closing the door. Lukas sat with his arms crossed and Emil took his special chair- the leather one.

"So, I'm drunk. Let's talk."

"I'd prefer we discuss this when you're sober."

"I'm getting there." Lukas sighed, then asked his brother, "How long?"

"Well…" he tapped his chin. "We met at a party for Jiao Long, a friend of his, and we kind of were friends since then… this just all kind of happened… a few months ago?"

"Define 'a few'."

"…seven." Lukas groaned at the answer, Emil's frown deepening. "It happened so suddenly I'm not sure. All I know this that-."

"And the heroin?"

"It's getting taken care of," Emil tried to smile, but it wasn't working.

"…are you cl-."

"Yes," sighed the Icelander. "I am. I've never touched it once. He doesn't bring it around me."

"…well," Lukas mumbled, rubbing his hazy eyes, staring off into space. "I don't know. I guess I could make sure it's all going well. Anything else?"

'_Yeah, by the way, I'm insanely insecure and bulimic._'

"No."

"Okay, well," Lukas leaned forward and hugged his brother- awkwardly. "I'm sorry I overreacted." Emil would've pointed out he under-reacted if he could breath. "Goodnight, Emil." He released his tight grip, Emil replying a quick 'goodnight' back before they both walked to their rooms.

When Emil grabbed his phone to text Kiet, he was greeted by a picture message of his _boyfriend_ (no longer secret), holding a newborn baby, and he sighed, calling him up. "Kiet? Yeah, I saw. She's a cutie. Yong Soo must be proud. How's Kim? By the way… he's actually okay with it."

"_Broadway is dark tonight.  
>Little bit weaker than you used to be.<br>Broadway is dark tonight.  
>See the young man sitting in the old man's bar.<br>Waiting for his turn to die."_

* * *

><p><em>Bleh.<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	9. Track IX: Long Way Down

_**A/N;;**__ I run out of stuff to say here because I usually put important things at the end._

…_why? Anyway, another song dilemma, so I went with my least favorite Goo Goo Dolls song._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track IX**  
><em>Long Way Down<em>

"Good morning," Emil was busy heating up a bowl of warm cereal when Lukas stumbled into the kitchen, violently shushing him, rubbing his head as he sat down. "Hangover?"

"How'd you get so smart?" chided Lukas bitterly. Emil rolled his eyes, taking the bowl and sitting down across from his brother, sighing as he took a bite of the oatmeal. The silence in the room was a little bit awkward (understatement), but neither spoke for various reasons- mostly Lukas' hangover.

"Kim Cuc had her baby."

"How is it?"

"Fine, she was healthy, full term."

"It was a girl?" Lukas asked, still massaging his temples. Emil hummed and nodded.

"Thanh or something like that. She was a cutie." Offering a small smile, Emil waited for a response.

"You saw her?" Lukas asked, watching his younger brother pull out his phone and pull up the picture. "She's adorable. Looks like she has Yong Soo's hair."

"With that one curl, yes," sighed Emil, putting the device back into his pocket. Lukas looked up and exchanged a glance with Emil, who tilted his head. "Maybe you should stay home." Shaking his head, Lukas grabbed a cup of coffee and downed it as quickly as he could. "Oh… it's important today?"

"Well… I do have to meet with the boss."

"Showing up hung-over _always_ earns brownie points."

"Hey," snapped the Norwegian. "You're on thin ice. Sarcasm isn't helping it." Watching as Emil rolled his eyes, Lukas sighed, walking out of the room and grabbed his jacket, looking up. "It might rain."

"Good," Emil stated, eyes on the can of diet soda in front of him.

"Wait…" Lukas entered the room again, examining his brother once again. "…you're eating breakfast."

"I…" Emil swallowed. "I just decided to eat early."

"…alright, I'm going." Lukas waved and walked out the door, groaning as he got into the car and rubbed his head. "This is going to be a long day."

* * *

><p>"You're going to get sicker." Mathilde glanced up from the cookbook in her hands, sprinkling some kind of spice into the mix. "Honestly, I don't get you. You're so stubborn." Birgitta was sitting quietly, observing the Dane as she ignored her statements.<p>

"Yoo and I both know…" Looking around, Mathilde, checked the hallway before returning to the kitchen, She lowered her voice to finish the sentence, "Yoo and I both know that… it's not going ta be any longer. Maybe three years if I'm lucky."

"So why do you do this?" Birgitta frowned, looking down at the table. "Mathilde, look- the more you work yourself and run around, the shorter that time becomes. Look, I'm not sure it's worth it. You were out _late_ last night. You need the rest. Why don't you agree to treatment?"

"Because it's worthless," Mathilde growled, stirring the batter. "I don't want ta lose my hair again."

"You really don't want to go through what happened three and a half years ago again, do you?" Birgitta hissed, causing the Danish woman to become very quiet. "Do you know how scary that was? Your mom was _nice_ to me. Peter couldn't sleep for months."

"Birgitta," Mathilde began to say, slowly. "Yoo know I care about yoo and Peter a lot, even if I don't show it sometimes," she continued on. "Just… I want ta live life. I've never had restrictions. I don't know how ta live with them. I just… I just want ta say, 'Yeah, I did what I wanted when I was still alive.' I don't want any regrets."

"So you don't regret anything?"

"I do, but most of my regrets come from my parents," she began to pour the mix into a pan, smiling weakly. "I can't change what they did or do."

The conversation came to a lull as Peter entered the kitchen, looking up at Mathilde and Birgitta with slight curiosity. "Hi?" he asked, and Birgitta smiled. "Mama, did Jerk call last night?" Mathilde's expression changed from relaxed to murderous in no time, glaring at the female.

"What?"

"You were out," Birgitta sighed. "Arthur's taking the custody thing to court. Considering the fact he thinks I'm unfit."

"Unfit how?" Mathilde snarled, sliding the pan into the oven with a little too much force. Closing it, she listened as some of the batter that spilled out sizzled, turning and crossing her arms like a little child who didn't get their way.

"Unfit as in we almost were broke."

"Well, call Alva. She can prove…"

"I'd rather not," Birgitta sighed, shaking her head. "I hate dealing with her."

"Better than your father…?"

"No, not better…" Mathilde sighed, knowing her darling stepsister was the biggest daddy's girl in the world. When her mother wanted her to take dance, her father refused and let her help him in the garage with his carpentry projects. When her mother wanted her to say yes to the charming, popular boys for homecoming, her dad didn't even make her go. It seemed he knew where his daughter's interests were, but he didn't seem to care anymore after she got pregnant.

"_Well, are you gonna get rid of it?"_

"Look," Mathilde tightened her fist at the memory, knowing full well that her mother was the only one that could help her in this case. "It's for the best."

"I can't afford a lawyer!" Birgitta shouted.

"Well, yoo have ways!" This sparked a new gleam in the Swede's eyes neither Peter nor Mathilde had even seen before. "Birgitta…?" Watching as the woman walked into her room, Peter looked up at his Danish step-aunt and smiled. "What, kid?"

"What ch'ya making?"

"A cake for my new friend." Handing him the spoon, Peter began to lick the batter off utensil and Mathilde collapsed into a chair, sighing loudly.

* * *

><p>"I don't look kindly on afternoon naps, Mr. Thomassen." The German accent caused him to jump up, almost screaming. He could feel his headache return, though he was pretty sure his hangover had passed by then. It didn't make him feel any better- in fact, it made him feel more edgy.<p>

"I'm sorry, Ms. Beilschmidt." Watching the tall, blonde woman sit down, he sighed, resisting the urge to add an unnecessary remark to that sentence. "Anyway, what do you need from me today?" She pulled out a giant folder, setting it in front of him.

"Your work ethic is somewhat back to normal, but it's not where you should be."

"My work ethic was sidetracked when someone sent a 630 case to deal with me."

"And I told you to learn to deal with those cases." The short haired woman's voice was raised slightly, meaning she had not taken kindly to the tone of voice he had decided to use. "Now listen, Lukas, this job is a very precise jobs. There are no mistakes."

"Look, ma'am…" Lukas' head began to pound, he felt like he was going to snap. He was not in the greatest mood ever, but the least she could do is not be such a fucking _bitch_ about it. "I'm doing my job to the best of my abilities."

"You abilities were five times better when you were working on the very bottom of the totem pole."

"I can assure," he gritted his teeth. "I'm not slacking off because of my position. In fact, I'm trying to keep my branch in line."

"Key word is trying, I presume?" He was about to fire back when the door opened, and he almost slammed his head into a desk. There stood the Dane who had pretty much distracted him from his work. He felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach- this time it was not the alcohol. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm busy talking to Mr. Thomassen so could-."

"Uhm, actually, I'm just here ta drop off this." She held out a pan, a very, neatly decorated cake on the inside. "He wasn't feeling so hot last night so ta brighten his spirits I-."

"Thank you, Mathilde," Lukas hissed, standing up and reaching for the pastry. She tilted her head, handing over the tin and hung back. Ms. Beilschmidt turned around to examine her, blue eyes narrowed in distaste.

"First name basis with a client?"

"I'm not a client," repeated the Dane, rolling her eyes and avoiding the scrutinizing glare of the boss. "I'm a-."

"You seem to be a distraction…" Turning around, the German sent Lukas the dirtiest look she could muster. "Well, Lukas?"

"She's not a distraction," he retorted, though he didn't know why. He was already on thin ice. "Maybe the distraction is we have very little work to do and you're still being a fucking bitch about us not doing anything…"

He inhaled sharply. He knew he was done. Finished. Mathilde's eyes widened. She moved out of the doorway by a cabinet. The boss stood up, and straightened her skirt. "You have two hours to clean out your office. Anything of your left will be burnt and thrown away."

She walked out, a look of shock on the two Scandinavians' faces. Mathilde frowned as Lukas opened the drawer, pulling out a picture and smothering it to his chest. A silence that was unbreakable came over them, and the female knew what the Norwegian man was thinking.

'_How am I going to find another job?_'

Mathilde stayed close by while the other began to take things and put them into boxes, biting her lip in thought. "Don't worry."

"Oh," and Lukas snapped. "Okay, I _won't_ worry! I've just lost the best fucking job I had and everything, but I should _not_ worry! You-!"

"I have a friend… he owes me a favor." Lukas was tense, his fist so tight that his nails were digging into his palms. Mathilde placed a hand on his shoulder. "It might not be the best, but it _is_ money- until ya find a better job."

Lukas sighed loudly, saying, "Fine. Whatever. I may not take it but I appreciate your help."

"I know you're just upset, so I'm not taking any of this seriously." Her voice, usually filled with some kind of emotion, was flat. It made him turn around and he grabbed the box from the floor, his gaze on the brown cardboard.

"Will you grab your cake?" he asked, trying not to sound like such a dick. She nodded, grabbing her gift to him and followed him out. They walked in silence, Mathilde occasionally glancing over at Lukas to see if he was okay. "Thanks… you know… I mean, I _should _be mad but-."

"Yoo weren't happy," she stated, matter-of-factly. He nodded, and tossed the box in the backseat. "Yoo will be happier soon. Okay?"

"If you say so," he mumbled, opening his door. The female nodded and was about to walk out when he said, "Get in. You're not walking to your apartment." Smiling, she opened the door and slid into the car, a feeling of relief washing over her.

"Thanks… I'm a little bit too tired." She laughed as she turned on the radio. "I wouldn't have made it."

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, Mathilde flipping through the stations, not finding anything she liked, and Lukas trying to contemplate the best way to explain to Emil their new predicament.

* * *

><p>"Tino Väinämöinen speaking," the Finnish man looked up from his desk, to see his girlfriend glaring at him. She wasn't pleased that he decided to take <em>this<em> call (considering the fact he ignored two prior to this one). "Oh, hello, Birgitta," he smiled, causing Anya to raise an eyebrow.

"You need me to assess the financials of a lawyer?" he frowned, pulling up some kind of document on his computer. "The cheapest ones you could afford would be Arthur Kirkland. He works for so little, but if you win the case he-."

"You see," Anya's trained ears heard the female on the other line begin, "that's the problem. I'm being sued by Arthur Kirkland."

Indigo eyes seemed to portray some kind of shock. "It's a child custody case…" this Birgitta woman said, and Tino nodded, typing furiously.

"Then, I think I can help with that. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Well, yes, but what about my son?" Anya was getting very annoyed- like, _deathly_ annoyed.

"Bring him, because I can find you a lawyer…" Tino clicked something and reclined in his chair. "No, no, it's not going to cost much at all. Don't worry about it. You'll see. Meet at the diner- the one we met at- around six, okay?"

His laugh overpowered whatever the slut (as the Russian had decided that this Birgitta was a man stealer) had to say. He replied, "It's nothing. I did tell you to call if you needed anything. I'll talk to you soon, Birgitta."

"Who was that?" the Russian growled, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"Don't be paranoid," the blond male smiled. "She's just a client."

"So were the other two that called." He frowned, trying to think of an argument for that. "You aren't going tonight, are you?"

"Depending on what Eduard says, I might." Scoffing, Ivana grabbed her purse and stomped over to the door. "Hey now, it's not like that. Anya-."

"I'm late for a meeting with my sister," she snapped, opening the door with force and slamming it so hard it almost broke. Tino sighed, shaking his head, knowing that this woman was an extremely jealous one. Sure, he had dealt with the jealous type before, but no one was this bad.

He shrugged, replying to a few emails before he got up to leave, walking over to Lukas' office. He opened the door to find it practically deserted. "Holy shit…"

This day couldn't get any better.

* * *

><p>Emil walked into his house with two, unusual things. One, Kiet was lounging on the sofa, very comfortably, shirt off, reading a book. This wasn't as shocking as the other sight, which was Lukas slamming his head into a wall. Each thud was probably giving him brain damage as he stood there, trying to figure out who to talk to first.<p>

"Uhm, he's…" Kiet was shushed by the Norwegian, who rubbed his forehead and turned to face his brother. "I'll just be here if you need me," the Thai man said, flipping the page and sighing loudly as Lukas pointed to the kitchen.

Emil's heart stopped, and he shakily walked toward the destination, taking a seat, trying to conjure up an assortment of excuses and lies if it was about _that_. "Emil, I've lost my job today," Lukas said, his serious tone sending chills up the Icelander's spine. "So right now we're pinched on money, but a friend of mine might be getting a job-."

"…wait," Emil let out a relieved sigh, "I can also get a job. I need one anyway."

"If you want," Lukas shrugged. "You do have school to worry about."

"Don't worry," Emil waved him off. "It's going to be a good thing for both of us." Smiling, he stood up, grabbing a diet soda from the refrigerator, and walking into the living, his boyfriend engulfed in the book he had. "What ch'ya reading?" he asked curiously, taking the book from him.

"A book." Rolling his eyes, Kiet watched as Emil flipped it over to the back cover, reading what was written. His expression grew pale as he handed it back to him, making the Asian say, "So… are you-?"

"I'll do it when I'm ready," the pale man whispered, his violet eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be at work?" Kiet smiled, sitting up and kissing Emil's cheek, grabbing his shirt and sliding it back on. "After all, the counselor did suggest you learn responsibility before you enter the program."

"See you, Emi," he ignored his chiding, waving to the young male. "Bye, Lukas," he called to the brother, closing the door. Lukas popped out from the doorway.

"You know…" Lukas sighed, shaking his head. "I could get use to him being around here. He's not horrid. Have him stay for dinner on Thursday."

Emil's jaw dropped and he sighed, shaking his head. Lukas laughed and dug the fork into a piece of cake. He sighed as he swallowed, thinking about the person who made this heaven.

Maybe this would be okay.

"_Long way down I don't think I'll make it on my own.  
>Long way down I don't want to live in here alone.<br>Long way down I don't think I'll make it on my own."_

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><p><em>Bleh. Oh well~<em>

_HEY GUYS. GUESS WHO'S ACTUALLY GOING TO FINALLY REPLY TO ALL HER REVIEWS? I get so lazy._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	10. Track X: Before Its Too Late

_**A/N;;**__ …I'm trying to get a majority of this done before tomorrow. School is starting way too soon._

_When school starts, updates are going to be very scarce and random._

_Oh, and Carlos = Cuba. Just for future references._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track X**  
><em>Before It's Too Late<em>

The home phone ringing is what woke him up. He realized he had slept it, partially because he didn't have to be at work so early to deal with shit. He smiled, grabbing the cordless phone, yawning. "Hello?"

"Please tell me this is Lukas Thomassen?" a very Danish voice asked, sounding like she had spent hours trying to find his number.

"It is," he sat up, stretching. "And this is?"

"Mathilde!" she shouted, laughing like a maniac. "Thank God! I called around and got like, _five_, different numbers and-!"

He sighed, distancing the phone from his ear as the female continued on and on about her story. He was positive she started speaking in Danish for about a full four minutes, then finished in English. "Why don't I just give you my cell number? It'll be easier to reach."

"That'd be great! Look, can yoo meet me at ta Maple Book Store at like, two?" she asked, her peppy voice holding a secretive tone. "My friend said it'd be the only time ta meet ya."

He hummed, replying quickly. "Sure." He heard her squeal and hurry through a goodbye as she hung up. He forced himself out of bed, sighing dramatically. He wasn't thrilled that he had still lost the best paying job ever, but it was nice of her to go out of her way and see to it he had something stable until he could find something better.

Slowly walking into the bathroom, he turned on the hot water and let the idea of a less stressing job take over his thoughts.

He liked that idea.

* * *

><p>"Mathilde," a curly, multi-blond haired Canadian pushed his glasses up, crossing his arms. "I hope this isn't another slacker Abel…"<p>

"Oh, come on, Michael!"

"Matthew!" shouted the Canadian, his glare becoming more threatening. "Honestly, we went to school together for years- since we were in seventh grade. You and I played hockey together since we were five! How can you _not_ remember my name?"

"It's a lot better than being called your sister's name." The silence following that statement was almost as violent as the glares Matthew was giving Mathilde. Violet eyes lowered, and Mathilde mumbled, "I'm sorry. I know that Alyssa is all-."

"No," Matthew smiled, looking up. "It's fine. I need to get over the fact she's a bit of an attention whore." They laughed, sipping from their drinks- Mathilde's usual water bottle and Matthew with a coffee in hand. "So who is this guy, eh?"

"Lukas Thomassen," she said with a slight grin. Matthew quirked an eyebrow as people scurried around them. "He's shorter than me but I think it's cute. He's quieter and all, but it's all good."

"And you met him how long ago?"

"At least a week ago," she sighed, twirling a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her pony tail. "He's different. I like him." Matthew rolled his eyes, slurping the beverage in his hands. "Matthew, that's gross!" she hissed.

"It sounds like he's someone you like _a lot_, Miss Densen," the Canadian hummed thoughtfully, watching the door. She blushed and looked down, his eyebrows quirking at her reaction. "What? Mathilde Densen- the bravest girl in the entire city- shies about this subject?"

"I was the bravest girl," she whispered, wiping her eyes. "I don't have time for love." Matthew frowned, knowing that this wasn't a matter of her being busy, but something else. "Besides, I don't fall in love- at least not fast."

"How would you know?" the Canadian chided. "Mathilde, you spent most of your dating- if one could call it _that_- life going from one drunken keg party to the next. You never gave the guys a chance to fall in love with you and you never allowed yourself a chance to fall as well. Your 'relationships'," to this he added air quotes, "Never happened when you were sober."

She stayed quiet, so he continued, "And you are still the bravest girl. No one can still try to be like you with what you have going on with you- no one. You're dy- is that him?" his thoughts were interrupted when he saw a short Norwegian approaching. She looked up, her eyes sparkling slightly.

"Uhm, hi?" the man took a seat, dark blue eyes on the two at the table. Mathilde giggled and took a sip of her water.

"Lukas, this is Matthew," she chirped. "He and I go back a long ways. We played hockey together since we were tots and went to school together since seventh grade and-."

"Pleased to meet you," Matthew held up his hand, silencing the Dane, and reaching over to shake the Norwegian's hand. "Mathilde says you used to do big business work?"

"Yeah," Lukas shot her a dirty look, causing Matthew to laugh.

"So you're the responsible type, good." Nodding, Matthew released his grip on Lukas' hand and sighed. "I'm going to be honest- my boyfriend, Carlos, and I started this as a way to get his works published- but now it's the biggest book store this city has to offer. Now, your pay won't be great…"

"I can live."

"And each payment also allows you to take two free books home with you," Matthew gave a small smile and Lukas somewhat returned it. "Now, I normally have concerns over people Thilde brings in, but you seem very well rounded. I'd hire you even if this wasn't because I owe Thilde."

"Thank you."

"Can you start today?" asked Matthew. "You'd worked Mondays through Fridays- sometimes you'd work Saturdays and Sundays too, but we attempt to rotate our employees out for weekends off." Lukas nodded, clearing his throat.

"Yes, I can," he agreed. Matthew whistled loudly, causing the Dane and Norwegian to jump. Mathilde rubbed her head and Lukas sighed. Finally, an employee came over to the table…

…and Lukas had a heart attack. "Kiet Sripuy is also fairly new- working here under counselor's orders. He's got a good grip on things, so would you mind-."

"No, I wouldn't," Lukas sighed bitterly, standing up and saying, "Show me what to do." Mathilde watched as the two walked away, Matthew's eyes narrowed in thought, before he turned to his friend, a slight look of concern on his face.

"You sure this is going to be a good idea?"

"When am I never?"The Dane replied. Matthew resisted the urge to dump the coffee on his head.

* * *

><p>"And that's pretty much it…" Lukas nodded, arms crossed, he examining the Thai as he finished putting a book back into place. "Carlos and Matthew both have OCD, so it's pretty much best to keep everything in order or-." Kiet was cut off.<p>

"Kiet," Lukas spoke, having the male's attention get turned back to him. "Can I ask you something? Not work related?" Nodding, he turned, book in hand, smiling at the Norwegian. "Can I trust you?"

"With?" the Asian's breath hitched. Lukas gave him a look that just _said_ that he was an idiot and shouldn't play dumb. "Emil? I don't know. I can't tell you what you should trust and not trust. But just know I'm trying. I'm only human. I'm trying." He bit his lip and Lukas looked semi-pleased with the answer. "I'm glad you know."

"Why?"

"Because I hate secrets and lies," he said, turning around and placing the book away. The blond reached over and grabbed a stack, walking down a ways to put the book on top where it belonged. "It's not my thing. It's a little bit weird with everything I do- er- _did_, but it's just…"

"Well, I guess I can believe that," Lukas frowned, turning to Kiet as he handed him a book. "It is just like Emil to keep things to himself. He was always the secretive guy…" Lukas caught a glimpse of Kiet's face, and something told him that there was a problem. "Something wrong?"

"Did he tell you _anything_ else?" asked the Thai, his voice very… _un_happy. "Like… about himself?"

Lukas' heart stopped. "No, he told me he was clean though. Did you get-?"

"I don't do _that_ around him." Kiet frowned and slammed the books into the shelf. "Never mind, I guess he's still not going to tell."

"Tell what?"

"It's not really my place…" Lukas rolled his eyes and gently picked up the books. "Look, Emil sent me a text about Thursday- I can be there. Is he actually going to _eat_ or is he going to-?"

"So you've noticed it too?" Lukas had noticed his brother wasn't eating much- more so _at all_. He was glad it wasn't just him being paranoid. But now it was Kiet's turn to send him the look that made Lukas feel stupid. "What?"

"You haven't completely caught on." Kiet grabbed the empty box and walked away, shaking his head. Lukas stood there, dumbfounded and in shock. What did he mean by that?

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," Mathilde sat cross-legged on the floor, her fingers working as fast as they could to press the buttons on the controller as she and Peter engaged in a Smash Brother's battle to the death. "He's going ta get yoo a lawyer- free of cost- and expect <em>nothing<em> in return?"

"Can you just stop thinking?" Birgitta asked, checking herself in the hallway mirror as she walked out into the living room. "It's not like that. Not every guy who's nice to me wants sex."

"No," Mathilde said, cursing as the twelve year old attempted to get the Smash Ball. "But most of them do. Birgie, as the big sister, it's my job to make su- UP B! UP B!" she shouted, and shook her head as the video game cackled the end of the game. "Next time I'm gonna be Samus."

"You were saying?"

"I owe you my protection from dicks. After all," the Dane began, again clicking various buttons with vigor as the boy cackled evilly. "I did introduce ya ta Arthur and-."

"If I didn't meet Arthur," Birgitta walked over and brushed her son's bangs from his face, kissing his forehead, "Peter wouldn't be here. And if Peter wasn't here, you sure as hell wouldn't be playing video games tonight."

"You sure as hell wouldn't have moved in," Mathilde tackled Peter, hugging him. Birgitta smiled. "And I love my nephew so it all works out for the better." Peter laughed pulling his mother down for a hug, and Mathilde whispered. "I love you guys. Okay?" Peter replied cheerfully and Birgitta nodded, sighing in return. She knew that it was going to suck when- no, let's think positive- _if_ it just so happened… Mathilde _left_.

"When I come home," Birgitta stood up, grabbing her hat and coat, "Let's watch a movie or play a game of something. Okay? Love you," she waved and the two waved back, returning their attention to the game.

* * *

><p>"She can't afford it?" a yellow haired man glared at Tino, adjusting his glasses. "Then why the hell did you call me up here?"<p>

"Because _I'm_ paying for it," the Finn replied, causing his friend to give him the evil eye. "Look, this woman… is kind of down on her luck. It's not going to be easy for her, okay?" The man sighed, teal eyes looking down at the table. Tino sighed, looking toward the doors. Suddenly, entering the restaurant was Birgitta- his heart stopped. She looked _nice_. She looked… like Birgitta would look like, even if he hardly knew her.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized, sliding next to Tino in the booth. "I'm Birgitta Oxenstierna," she held out her hand, a serious look on her face. Nodding, the lawyer returned the hand shake.

"Eduard von Bock," replied the Estonian, and they all began to talk. Within in a hour, most of the details were figured out- who would be there, who would testify in her defense, who else would be involved, the cost- most of it was done. Now most of the conversation was about life- Eduard's pregnant wife, Birgitta's home life, and Tino just stayed quiet, sipping his soda, and staring at the Swede.

"So how did you meet your ex?" Eduard asked, immediately adding, "If it's not, you know-."

"I met him through my stepsister," she sighed. "She was big into partying and she would go up to his campus. She was dating a friend of his at the time. Anyway, I went one day and well… he said he liked mature women. So we started dating, we slept together- then I got pregnant."

"And he left you?" Tino asked, shaking his head.

"Pretty much," she looked down at the table, a deep frown outlining her Swedish featured. "But I don't regret it. Not anymore. At the time, I did, but he's the best thing that happened to me."

"Now, in case your stepmother and your father testify against you, what is the story behind that?" Eduard asked, propping his head up in his hand. Birgitta sighed.

"I was eighteen when they told me to get out. Mathilde was almost done with college and let me move in. I've been with her since then." A quiet ring was heard, and she pulled out her phone. She frowned, turning to the two males, "Excuse me," she said and stood up, walking away from the table to take the call.

Eduard turned to Tino, who let out the millionth sigh. "Okay, may I remind you who you're dating? My sister-in-law."

"Why does everybody I know have to be dating someone related to Anya?" Tino asked, rolling his eyes. "And don't worry, I'm not going to cheat on her. She knows I'm not that kind of guy.

Eduard gave him a questioning look when Birgitta reappeared, smiling her as she took her seat. "Sorry, that was the principal for the local middle school." She sighed happily, muttering, "Things are going to start working out now."

"Did you get a job?" Tino asked. She nodded, and then clicked her tongue.

"A lady outside in this black car asked about you. I told her you were inside and she got mad and drove off." Shrugging, Birgitta watched as Tino jumped up. "I take it it's your wife?"

"_Girlfriend_," he emphasized this point. "And now she's pissed. And I'm stuck without a ride because she drove me." He shot Eduard a dirty, but pleading look, but the Estonian with teal eyes shook his head. "What?"

"Irunya is going to kill me if I'm not home soon," Eduard stood up, bowing slightly in apology. "Hormones and all. I will contact you both soon. Bye, guys." Birgitta gave a quiet farewell and turned to Tino. He was currently staring out the window in thought.

"Okay, where do you live?" Finishing up her drink, she grabbed her keys from her purse, causing the Finnish man to turn in shock.

"I mean, if you want," Tino began. "It _may_ be a bit out of your way…" Birgitta stood up, rolling her eyes.

"I don't care," she added, watching as he stood up, sheepishly grinning. She gave a small grin and the two left the facility, walking to her car in silence. Tino glanced up at Birgitta, trying to find the words to say. Sadly, nothing came to mind and he stayed very quiet, something he wasn't used to either.

By the time they got into the car and began to drive, neither had spoken. Tino grew sick of this, and was about to say something completely off the wall before the Swede said, "Thank you so much."

"For?"

"This," she bit her lip, sighing. "I mean, paying for the attorney and all. It really means a lot to me." Tino smiled and waved it off, tying to explain how it was no big deal. She shook her head, interrupting, saying, "No, it _is_ a big deal."

"I was raised to always help someone in need," he replied. He slapped his hand over his mouth. "Not like you're _completely_ needy or anything but-."

"I get it," she mumbled, looking straight ahead. "And it means _a lot_. If I lost Peter, that would be horrible. He would be heartbroken because he really wants to be there for me and Mathilde." Tino glanced out the window.

"He loves you both, huh?" he asked, and she made a humming noise. "Lukas- my friend- he's… gotten to know Mathilde better. She's special… isn't she?"

"She's normal." Birgitta frowned, her voice now cold and disengaged. "She was born normal, and lived normal up until she was twenty-six. Now… she's trying to be normal." Tino could tell the topic was off-limits. Instead of being a dick and pressing for more information he'd just drop it. If Lukas found out, chances are (though very _slim_) he'd tell him.

"Well," Tino smiled, looking over at her as she pulled into the parking lot. "You're still an incredible person. You deserve the best." She gave a small smile herself, watching as he slid out of the car and closed the door. "Goodnight, Birgitta."

"Goodnight, Tino." Watching as she drove away, he walked up to his apartment entrance and sighed. He was trying to process so many things- Anya's little scene earlier and how he was going to cope with that, Eduard's concern that he'd cheat on Anya, Birgitta in general…

Sighing, he opened the door and leaned against the wall. He had always been so sure on what he wanted in life. Now he wasn't exactly sure what he _needed _in life.

"_Hold on, before it's too late.  
>We'll run 'til we leave this behind.<br>Don't fall, just be who you are.  
>It's all that we need in our lives."<em>

* * *

><p><em>OH MY GOD SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW. AND THIS CHAPTER IS MAKING ME SCRATCH MY PLAN FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.<em>

_Awesome._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	11. Track XI: Dizzy

_**A/N;;**__ Chapter eleven! Heads up! This ends the first part of this story!_

_I wanted to leave you all hanging with a bitter sweet first half. Mostly because I wanted to start fresh when I start writing for this story again. It is by no means done._

_But this marks the beginning of a beautiful… thing?_

_And we kind of use the "titular song" for this chapter! HOORAY!_

_And I think I just stopped writing Mathilde's accent last chapter (oops). That's just going to happen from now on. Sorry, but it takes too long to go over everything as it is._

* * *

><p><span>Dizzy Up the Girl<span>

**Track XI**  
><em>Dizzy<em>

"I've never been so unsure on what I've wanted." Tino had been informed by Lukas of what had happened and why Lukas was fired. Now, it was Thursday, Tino's day off, and he had come to talk to his Norwegian pal at the other's job. It was fairly easy his first "real" day at work, and they didn't mind the Finnish man hanging around.

Kiet was sitting with the two during break time, and frowned as the Finn spoke. "Uhm…" he fiddled with his cup of pop nervously. He knew where he was coming from, yes, but he had made his decision. "Tino, I know where you're coming from. But what I wanted wasn't what I needed or what was best for me."

Lukas nodded, unsure of what to say himself. He hadn't really been in this position. He knew what he needed- a job, money, food, and clothing. Romance was an accessory. He didn't _need_ it like Tino. He was content.

But the keyword is "was." He _was_ content until that unusual Danish woman entered his life. Lukas now had a tough decision to make… actually, two decisions. One, if he _wanted_ her, and two, if she would _have_ him.

He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to give dating her a try. She was different from the normal girls he was with. They were quiet, like himself, but also very shallow. They were, to be blunt, huge bitches (like Tino's current girlfriend, whom Mathilde was convinced was the devil) who cared about the most ridiculous things- him not being one of them. None of them would've gotten him a job or made him pastries or anything of those sorts. Mathilde was different- in spite of her very childish personality at times, she was genuinely the sweetest person ever.

He admired that.

However, even if he _was_ interested, it seemed Mathilde's mind was not on romance anymore. That led to issue two: Mathilde would most likely say no.

"…and that's why you need to pick what's best for you." Lukas eventually let his musings return to the conversation at hand- and his admiration for his brother's boyfriend was growing slightly. No one, not even himself, had ever put Tino in his place properly when it came to women. Kiet, in spite of being as straight as a curve, had successfully done so.

Nodding, the Finn sighed dramatically. "But I like Anya! It's just… Birgitta…" he began to drift off. "I think I just admire her."

"You like Anya?" Lukas could've sworn that earlier he was madly in love with his scary, Russian girlfriend. Tino shrugged and looked away. "I'm surprised. Usually you're deeply in love and planning a marriage proposal at this point."

Tino glared, but said nothing more, because Mathilde Densen, the sky blue eyed Dane, approached them, a big smile on her face. Kiet shot a look over toward Lukas, who immediately flushed, and he smirked. "Is this Mathilde?"

"And you must be the brother's boyfriend!" Mathilde reached over, obviously in a good mood today, and shook the Thai man's hand almost violently. "Lukas told me so much about you! It's not all that good but you know…" Lukas died, but Kiet just shrugged, offering an apologetic smile toward the Norwegian.

"Old news." Mathilde nodded and took a seat at the small, rounded table. Tino and her exchanged glances, obviously she wasn't sure what she thought of him, but Lukas had gotten to know the gleams in her eye… and this was the same one she had when she spoke of her mother.

It was distrust. He frowned and coughed. Mathilde turned to Kiet and smiled, saying, "So, uhm, Lukas says you're going to rehab?"

"Yes," he smiles and shudders, Lukas noticing the little quirks that have come up since he slowly started to not abuse his substances. "Uhm…"

"Can I make you a cake?" she asked, casually, like she did this everyday (considering the fact she used to be a baker, it was likely she did). "I kind of miss my old job a lot, and…" Their glances made her trail off and she frowned. "And I really want to make a cake."

"…if you want?" Kiet smiled and looked over at Lukas, who shrugged. "I'm sure Lukas would love to have you over to the dinner tonight…"

"Would you, Lu?" Mathilde turned to him and he couldn't help but crack a smile, words failing him as he just opted to nod instead of speak. She giggled and jumped up. "I'll get started now. See you both later!" She turned to Tino, examining him one last time, before offering him a cold, "Goodbye."

Tino frowned as she turned and walked away, his eyes glued to her back as he let out a loud, "Well, isn't she just a pocketful of sunshine?"

Lukas frowned as he saw her hesitate a little in her step. "Tino, shut up," he hissed. "You don't know her." She continued to walk at a faster pace until she was out of sight. Lukas scowled at his best friend as he shot an equally nasty look back at the Norwegian. Kiet awkwardly sat and watched.

"She was very nice," he offered, honestly.

"She doesn't trust you," Lukas said, ignoring the Asian, as he stood up. "And I can see why- I wouldn't trust you either with her stepsister, especially when you have a girlfriend."

"You know what?" Tino grabbed his things, turning on his heels. "Fuck you, Lukas! I know what I'm doing!"

"I hope so," Lukas growled, walking the opposite direction. "For your sake." The two Nordics left, leaving Kiet in silence. He shook his head, finishing his coffee, and stood up, walking straight forward, trying to avoid either one of the fuming blonds.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you have plans?" Birgitta was in shock. Actually, she was in a fake coma. Mathilde didn't ever have plans. Thankfully, she had always been free and usually Birgitta had a sitter lined up. Lately Peter had been prone to driving his sitters away and she was not about to call her ex. "Mathilde! I have a very important dinner with my new boss!"<p>

"I know, but…" sighed the Dane. Birgitta immediately felt guilty. She shouldn't even be putting the extra pressure on Mathilde for this. "I can take-."

"No, don't, I'm sorry," offered the Swede. "I'll just have to find a sitter now." Mathilde snorted, knowing none of the older ones would return because Peter Kirkland was a little terror with new people. One sitter was punched because she insulted his eyebrows, the other one was bit because she wouldn't play with him.

"Who are you going to find?" Mathilde asked, immediately regretting the decision when she peeked over her stepsister's shoulder and saw the contact she had pulled up. "Oh no! Birgitta!"

"Hi, Tino? You're not…" she nodded, and smiled. "You're not! Uhm… well… remember what you told me the Sunday we had that one meeting? Yeah, that! Is that offer still open?" Her expression became light, relaxed, very un-Birgitta like. Mathilde's heart began to ache. That was the way she looked twelve years ago, when Arthur and her were the happy couple.

She didn't like it. "I need a sitter for my son and… you will? Oh my God, thank you so much!" After listening to her give the address and write down a list of things needed to be done, she hung up her cell phone and Mathilde just glared at her. "What?"

"I don't like him."

"I know," Birgitta rolled her eyes, ignoring the Danish woman's nasty snarl in reply to that statement. "Can you just pretend you do for five minutes? As soon as we leave you can hate him."

"You had that look."

"What look?" grabbing a purse from the closet, Birgitta turned to question the older female.

"The one you had with Arthur." Mathilde watch her tense up and try to hold back her tears. "Birgie, I'm worried about you…"

"Mathilde," Birgitta's tone became serious- holding the hint of a lecture ahead. "You told me that when you die you wanted to have no regrets and not feel like you didn't do what you wanted to do." Nodding, Mathilde crossed her arms and Birgitta sighed. "I want the same thing too- I don't want to have any regrets. I don't want to regret loving Arthur- because I don't. I got the world's best son as a deal. I don't want to regret falling in love. It's the best thing in the world."

"…" The Dane stayed uncharacteristically quiet. Birgitta frowned, but knew what else needed to be said.

"Mathilde, don't you ever think that love isn't worth it. Because when you die, you'll have my love, Peter's love, my mom's love, all your friend's love… and the love of some guy. And trust me: it'll all be worth it. Because you don't regret falling in love- you just wish you had made it work."

"You're a horrible teacher," Mathilde chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Making your students cry!" The two began to laugh when Peter came out from his room. He was about to question what was going on, but a loud knock made him run to the door. He yanked it open, only to see the Finnish man his mother had called on the outside of the doorframe.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Peter Kirkland!" shouted his mother, yanking him away from the door and letting the laughing Tino inside. "This is Tino. He's going to watch you while Mathilde and I are gone."

"…why didn't you call Granny Alva?" Peter asked, watching his mother's disapproving glance turn to a full-fledged murderous stare. Mathilde stood by watching as Tino and Birgitta conversed, hands on her hips, and her foot tapping.

"Let's go," she finally growled, and Birgitta turned to her, sending her one warning shot, grabbing her purse and waving goodbye to Tino and Peter.

"Call me if you need anything!" she yelled before Mathilde shoved her out of the door and slammed it in their faces.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Peter turned to the man, and asked the Finn, "Do you wanna play CoD?"

* * *

><p>"Why the hell are you so nervous?" Emil's eyes were narrowed in confusion and something else as Lukas began to pace the living room. By the thirty-something lap (oh yes, Emil had been counting), Emil grew sick of it and it wasn't helping his nerves at all watching his older brother panic over nothing (seriously, his secret was on the line here! What did Lukas have to lose?).<p>

"It's about…"

"That girl you invited?" Emil was somewhat shocked his brother had allowed anyone to come into the house; especially what he said was a drunk not even a week or so ago. "It's fine. She obviously can't hate you- she spends enough time with you already."

"Emil," Lukas then remembered something Kiet had told him. _You haven't completely caught on_. What the hell did that mean? "I need to ask you something…" Emil's eyes were drifting to the floor at this point, his heart racing.

"I've noticed- and Kiet has too- that you haven't really been… eating." Emil's eyes shot up and were narrowed in hate. "Look, I'm just asking if anything-."

"So, how much did _he_ tell you?" Lukas could feel he had just made this dinner all the more awkward than it had to be. "Fine, play dumb! Lukas- I'm fucking _bulimic_!" The door opened and Kiet walked in just as those words were being said.

…

…

…

"You're what?" Lukas blinked, his jaw hanging open. Kiet knew the phrase "if looks could kill…" applied to him at that moment. "Emil… why didn't you tell me? How long has this been going on?" Emil blinked, unsure of what to say. No, his brother had not known the whole story, obviously implying Kiet hadn't let too much slip.

"Since high school." Lukas literally face palmed, unsure of what to say. So while waiting for his brother to reply, Emil turned his anger toward his boyfriend. "Why the fuck did you tell him?"

"I implied it. I wasn't going to wait around," Kiet frowned, grabbing the Icelander's wrists as he came after him. "And I was not going to live in fear that while I'm at rehab you starved to death. I'm not that kind of boyfriend."

"Can we please talk about this later?" Lukas bit his nails, interrupting the spat in front of him. "Look, I'll let you to argue about this after dinner. I'm taking Mathilde up to the cemetery after, then I'll talk to you, okay, Emil?" He frowned, and shook his head. "How did I not know?"

"You have taken all this shit very lightly," Emil observed. Kiet smiled and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist. "Especially this."

"I'm pissed," Lukas said, flatly. "I'm making you get help. But right now… we want to have a nice, last night as a somewhat…" He wanted to say "dysfunctional" but that wouldn't go over so well. "Normal group of people- human beings… like a family."

"You're trying to impress Mathilde," Kiet smirked, watching the car pull up and the Dane get out. Lukas flushed and Emil quirked an eyebrow. The Norwegian flipped off the Thai and let the Dane inside the house. While they were talking, Emil removed the Asian's arms from him, turning around and glaring.

"I'm still pissed as hell."

"You're okay," Kiet rolled his eyes. "It's going to end up amazing." They then all walked into the kitchen and began to get ready for a (quiet) dinner.

* * *

><p>As soon as Mathilde and Lukas left, Kiet and Emil curled up in Emil's room, a movie on TV filling up the silence. "Emil, you know I just hinted at it, right?" Emil nodded, his eyes glued to the screen as the creepy ass puppet began to ride around on the tricycle. "I did it because I love you and-."<p>

"I _get_ it." Emil frowned, sitting up. "And I wasn't going to tell him any time soon. I get it. But…" he sighed, trying to think of what to say. "It… it's hard okay?" Kiet sighed and sat up, leaning against the bed's headboard. "Look, Kiet, it's a scary thing- you're going away and I'm going to have to explain my sob story to some guy who's probably a secret pedophile."

"Emil," the Asian clicked his tongue in annoyance. "One, you will one day be considered that guy who you're going to see, and two," he held up two fingers, "I'm not going to be far. The rehab center is really close to the high school, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm gonna be busy and they don't allow-."

"Don't worry," leaning forward, he whispered softly, "it's going to be okay." Removing Kiet's glasses, Emil set them aside and laughed lightly as his lover squinted. The Icelandic male then leaned forward and kissed the Asian, who leaned back against the headboard. "I promise, Emil, it's going to be the best thing ever."

"I love you," the words felt foreign on his tongue still- even though he had said them many times before- but Emil meant every word. This time he felt like he was saying them like he could feel the emotion. Kiet smiled and sighed, lying back down.

"I love you too." And Kiet felt the same way. Pulling the younger male on top of him, Kiet captured the Icelander's lips in a kiss. Emil returned it, and when they parted, they just stared at each other.

Maybe this would work out. Maybe everything would be okay.

* * *

><p>Birgitta smiled as she stumbled into the apartment. Maybe she had too much wine, but she didn't care. She entered the bright apartment to find Tino and Peter both lying on the floor of the living room, passed out Peter had a blanket and pillow, while the Finn was curled up in a ball. She giggled, lifting her son and walking into his room, laying him down.<p>

"Mama?" he mumbled, sleepily trying to pronounce the word. He opened his eyes halfway and tried to keep them open.

"Shh, I'm home. Go back to bed." She kissed his cheek and he rolled over onto his side in the bed.

"I liked Tino," he yawned, closing his eyes. "Can he come back?" She nodded and he hummed as he fell back asleep, gently snoring. Birgitta couldn't fight the smile on her lips as she stood up and closed the door, walking back to the entrance of the family room, kneeling down by the Finn and shaking him awake.

"You never let me sleep, Mom!" whined the man, causing her to laugh. "Please?" he rolled over, and she cleared her throat, shaking him once more; this made the Finnish male sit up and rub his eyes, only to see the Swede kneeling by him, an amused smile on her face.

"Good morning, sunshine."

He flushed and stood up helping her to her feet after he had centered himself. "Sorry, he wore me out."

"He hasn't liked any of the other sitters I've found for him." She motioned to the kitchen and began to pour a cup of coffee for herself and him. He smiled and nodded. "I'm surprised he attached to you so fast. He normally is less trusting of guys…"

"Because of his dad?" he asked and Birgitta nodded. "Well, I never really got much of a childhood. I always had to provide for myself. My father was never around and my mom was super overprotective- trying to make sure I knew how to do things and everything. So I use times like babysitting- which I did a lot of for my cousins- to unleash my inner child."

"Looks like we both grew up too fast." Her frown deepened. "I was fifteen. _Fifteen_. I wasn't ready. I may be my father's daughter, but I just…"

"Let's talk about something pleasant," Tino suggested. "How was the dinner?" And to this, what he thought would be pleasant made her start to cry. "Oh! Wow, uhm…"

"I'm such a slut."

"No, no…" He gave the giant female a hug, stroking her hair. "You're not. Birgitta…"

"I made out with my boss!" she frowned. "And he's in love with someone else! Let's just kill two birds with one stone- I'm a slut and I'm a home wrecker!"

Tino continued to shush her and embraced her tighter. "Birgitta, you're not. You're the most amazing, intelligent, prettiest…" he frowned and she pulled away. "Look, you're not a slut. Sluts can't do what you do."

"Well, actually…"

"Just take the damn compliment." They both smiled and she laughed.

"Thanks," Birgitta mumbled. "You should go. You don't want your girlfriend worried, do you?" Tino had almost forgot that he was going over to his girlfriend's after this- hell, he forgot he had a girlfriend. "Thank you so much. I owe you so much…"

"Don't worry about it," he waved her off and shook his head when she tried to hand him some money. "Please, just do me a favor?"

"Of course!" Birgitta watched as he walked toward the front door.

Tino smiled. "Don't ever think my offer for you is closed, ever." He slipped on his shoes and smiled, waving goodbye as he quietly opened and closed the door. Birgitta sighed dreamily, but covered her mouth instantly and slapped herself.

"Stupid," she hissed.

Well, maybe she wasn't a slut, but she'd take up the offer on a home wrecker.

* * *

><p>"…<em>Hvis jeg skulle leve en anden dag, jeg beder Herren om at lede min vej<em>." Lukas sat across from his own father's grave as he listened to the voice behind him, practically screaming the prayer in anger. He bit his lip, pulling out his iPod, waiting for the footsteps to approach him.

"_Jeg hader dig_…" He heard Mathilde hiss, spitting on the grave as she sat down by him, burying her face into her knees. Lukas watched as she let out a loud wail, his blood boiling. "L-Lukas…"

"Shh," he gently placed the earphone in her left ear, and the other on in his right ear. He laid down on the ground, and she soon followed. She frowned, cuddling up close to him, causing him to blush. "Mathilde, how do you feel about love?"

An awkward pause fell between them. "Well," she shifted, leaning her head into his chest. "I don't know." The sound of the violin went though the earphones and Mathilde asked, "Is this you?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "My dad taught me how to play." Lukas wrapped his arms around her, his hands on the small of her back. "You know, last week, I asked God to send me something to change my life."

Mathilde nodded, eyes almost closed.

"Then the next day, you showed up." Lukas sat up, pulling her up with him. Whining, Mathilde glared, her sky blue eyes were glued to his cobalt eyes. "Thanks. You really did help me."

"With what?" she rolled her eyes, but smiled still, blushing.

"You're kind of…" Lukas frowned. "Look, I've never been in love. I've never wanted to be in love. I was the guy who didn't want to go to homecoming or prom because I didn't want to have a date. Every day a girl would ask me to Sadie Hawkin's and I would turn them down because I didn't want to date."

"And when I did date, I dated these girls who were shallow. Quiet, but shallow. Then I meet you- the somewhat loud Mathilde Densen- the girl I usual avoid, but now… you're… I don't know. I want to give dating a try. With you."

Her heart stopped and she blinked, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his, her eyes watering. "I want to too." Lukas inhaled and closed his eyes, tilting his head. Mathilde smiled and blushed, leaning closer herself. "Hey Lukas?" she asked, inches away from his lips.

"Yeah?" he mumbled, opening his eyes halfway.

"I need to tell you…" she brushed his cheek with her palm and they both leaned forward, slowly anticipating the gap between them being closed. Lukas felt something new. He felt like he found something. She just seemed to fit with him. Two halves becoming a whole. As cliché as it sounded, it worked just like that.

However, Mathilde's thoughts seemed to drift back to another subject. It would be important later on- considering the fact she couldn't hide it forever. When they pulled away slowly, her gaze was on the ground. She opened her mouth to say something.

But she couldn't. Instead she shifted herself into his lap and curled up, trying to find a way to phrase this gently. "What did you need to tell me?"

But how do you tell someone gently that you're dying?

"Lukas… I think you should know…" she frowned, fiddling with the cord on the earphones, trying to steady her breathing. "The day we met… when I fainted. And all the aches and pains… and the coughing… and the reason why I don't play hockey or work anymore…"

The Dane began to cry. Lukas leaned forward and wiped the tears from her face. Mathilde whimpered.

"Lukas, I have lung cancer."

A bombshell. The biggest blow yet.

The Norwegian took her and pushed her to the ground, kissing her lips with force. "I- I don't care." He frowned and laid his head on her chest. "I- I can't… I don't… what do I say?" She shrugged. "Mathilde, I… I promise I'll help you get better."

She smiled and hugged him tightly, her eyes as bright as the night stars. Lukas returned the hug and they laid like that, trying to figure out what to do next.

But right now, it didn't matter. Lukas didn't care that this may be short- for now, he was content. It was the first time he could say that in a while.

And for now, that was okay.

"_Everything you are falls from the sky like a star.  
>Everything you are whatever ever you want."<em>

* * *

><p><em>So after this chapter I'm gonna warn you- they'll be a time skip in the story. Right now it'll probably be one to two months. But anyway, just a warning.<em>

_So here ends the first part of this story. I really don't like rushed romance, but it kind of had to happen for the DenNor plot to work. The SuFin one will take longer, and since IceThai was already established, it's pretty much not an issue._

_Anyway, until I have time, expect shit ton of oneshots from me!_

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	12. Track XII: Give a Little Bit

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XII**_  
>Give a Little Bit<em>

About two months ago, Lukas Thomassen would've said Fridays were dedicated to overtime at work to get shit done, going out with Tino, and visiting his father's grave.

Now, they consisted of graveyard visits and movie nights with his _girlfriend_. Sometimes his brother would join them, sometimes her stepsister and / or step-nephew would join them, and sometimes it would be all of them together, sprawled out across Lukas and Emil's living room.

Two months ago, Lukas wouldn't have even considered this as an activity he would be doing on Fridays.

A lot had changed in his life though. First off, he didn't expect to be fired from the old, office job and now working at a job he actually enjoyed. Sure, his mother was upset when he lost the job Stefan had worked so hard to get for him, but the book store was what he needed. Matthew and Carlos were so nice. They offered to print his books out, when he started writing again.

That's something else Lukas couldn't believe had happened- he began to write. He had so many rough drafts of different stories in his work room now that Emil couldn't even see the dirty carpet. "It's a fucking miracle," Tino commented when he found the Norwegian passed out over the type writer. "I haven't seen him like this since college."

Not only had Lukas' life changed, so had his lovely girlfriend, Mathilde- who still felt odd to be in a relationship that _didn't _revolve around sex. She had been taken it easier. She seemed like she was doing well. She hadn't had any spells or issues in about two weeks. It was a relief to her and Birgitta.

Birgitta was also affected with this change. Not only did she get a job teaching, she now had to reach out and find other means of entertainment for Peter when Mathilde had a date. Emil had been all but too kind to volunteer himself, and Peter liked him, but Peter _loved_ Tino. Mathilde still hates him, but she put up with him for the young boy and Birgitta.

Lastly, Emil's life has yet to maintain normalcy. He is currently undergoing treatment. His process keeps expanding since he keeps binging. It's been hard- he hasn't had contact with his boyfriend for two months.

"I can't wait!" the silver haired male plopped down on a chair, while Mathilde and Lukas were cuddling on the sofa, waiting for Birgitta to join them to start the movie. "Starting tomorrow, Kiet's allowed contact with people. We can write letters, email, call, text…"

Lukas was only half-listening. "When can you see him?" Mathilde was much more interested than he was.

"That's up to his doctor." Birgitta entered, shushing Emil and taking a seat on the small love seat. Peter pressed play and watched as the opening credits began to show blood and guts being spilled from a busty woman's body. "Is this really appropriate for this kid?"

"Shush!" they all said, and the Icelander sighed, rolling his eyes. They all watched the movie in silence. Halfway through it, Birgitta and Peter left, the latter asleep in his mother's arms. Emil had also passed out, mostly from lack of sleep the past couple weeks.

When it was over, Lukas helped Mathilde to her feet. "Thanks," she flashed him a wide grin, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, treating her like a china doll. She was so fragile, yet one couldn't tell.

"So, I got a call from the rehab center," Lukas stated, his voice very soft, almost like he was bored. Walking toward the kitchen, Mathilde laced her fingers with his. "They said Kiet can have some visitors. Emil's one of them." Lighting up, the Danish woman held back a giggle.

"Are you going to surprise him tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, Kiet and I worked it out."

"You're such a kind brother." Mathilde bent down slightly to kiss his cheek. "Emil will surely appreciate it."

"You wanna come?" the Norwegian asked, opening a can of soda for himself. He knew that Kiet and Mathilde had become pretty decent acquaintances while he was still around.

"Nah, Birgie's got herself a date. A _date_ with her boss." By the tone of her voice, Mathilde did not approve at all. "Honestly, he better be better than fucking Timo or whatever…"

"What's wrong with Tino?" Turning back around to face her, Lukas watched the Dane began to cough violently. "You okay?"

"Water?" she choked, practically hacking all over the floor. Handing her a bottle, Lukas watched as she took a few sips and was perfectly fine after that. "He's a… a player! He has a girlfriend yet messes around with Birgitta's head! He's just like Arthur wa-..." Frowning, Mathilde crossed her arms, and shook her head.

"I know it seems all he wants is a good time…"

"It hurts when Peter thinks that Tino is going to be the dad he never had." Lukas bit his lip as Mathilde said that. "He wants to call him 'Dad,' but is so afraid that Tino is just gonna leave." Wiping her sky blue eyes, Mathilde added, "And I'm afraid he will too. Birgitta's never had this much faith in any man- not even her own father after-."

Lukas knew the story was off-limits. With what little he knew about the whole ordeal surrounding Peter's birth, he knew it wasn't pretty. Smiling, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I can talk to him."

"I though he didn't want you to talk about this stuff?" Mathilde asked.

"He doesn't," Lukas shrugged. "But it's not worth seeing you upset. Besides, you have a point- Tino's got Anya-."

"B-Rex." Giving her a way look, Lukas cleared his throat. He couldn't say he didn't agree, but he was not going to let her think she could always call her that. "Okay, _fine_, Ivana!"

"Better," Lukas grinned halfheartedly. "Are you staying here?" he asked, walking toward the living room to wake up his brother. She nodded and Lukas smiled. As soon as he left, she took a sip of water, and suddenly entered a giant coughing fit. She buried her face into the sleeve of her gray jacket, and when it finally ceased, she looked down at her arm.

Blood.

She shook her head and took another sip of water. Tomorrow she had an appointment. No need to worry about something you knew had been there for a while.

* * *

><p>Birgitta worried herself as she pranced around the house. Mathilde sat comfortably on the sofa, watching Peter try to finish a large and extensive puzzle. "How do I look?" Birgitta's hair had been tied up elegantly. She wore black heels, dark jeans, and a pretty shirt that drew attention to her chest.<p>

Mathilde rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, my opinion never matters."

"How was your appointment?" Peter changed the subject before it got out of hand. Mathilde shrugged, and Peter looked up, tilting his head in confusion. Birgitta waited for an actual verbal response, tapping her foot.

"As usual. They tell me shit I already know, tell me the same shit I need to do…" the Dane looked down at the puzzle. "That piece won't go there.

"Are you at least getting better?" Peter inquired. He moved the piece in hand to a spot and looked up at his nodding step-aunt. "I mean…"

"They say it's pretty special how I've been perfectly normal lately." Peter smiled and sprung up like a frog, landing in Mathilde's lap. Birgitta, obviously holding back tears, sat on the arm of the sofa next to the two. "Hey kid! Warn me next time!"

Laughing, the little bushy brow male said, "I think you're getting better! God wants you to stay with me!" Looking up to the ceiling, he screamed, "Right?" The room became dead silent. Birgitta shivered, walking over to the closet to go get a jacket, but even her heels made no noise.

"Was the silence a good or bad thing?" Mathilde questioned. Peter laughed again.

"Good."

"I'll be back later. Behave." Birgitta left without another word. The two left in the apartment shrugged it off and began working on the puzzle that was just about to reveal the big mystery picture.

* * *

><p>"It's nice to have you to myself." Tino stirred his soup, not even reacting when Ivana's foot brushed his own. He didn't glance up from his own meal, so he missed the annoyed look on the Russian's face. "When you aren't with Lukas or babysitting that kid…"<p>

"Peter," the Finn corrected. He gave a weak smile toward his girlfriend, who just shot him a nasty look. "Hey, it's not my fault…"

"It is!" Anya hissed, slamming her palm down onto the table. "You offered. She took up that offer. You _accepted_. You could've said no, and all the other times, you could've said no. You could've said you were _busy_ or something! But no. You are at fault."

"How am I at fault for helping a friend?" Tino questioned. Anya's eyes narrowed. "Besides, I thought you'd get along better with her now, considering the fact she works at your school." Rolling her eyes, Anya sighed and twirled her fork. "So she's not that bad."

"Still," she mumbled. "I can't help feeling she's stealing you from me or something…" Just as Tino was about to speak, Anya's violet eyes widened, and she gasped lightly. Turning around, Tino saw why she was so shocked.

First, it was the principal of the school Yao Wang.

Second, he was with Birgitta.

Ivana died of laughter on the inside, but as the couple passed their table, Tino shot the Chinese man a dirty look as he stopped, his hand entwined with Birgitta's. "Well, if it isn't world's greatest secretary, Anya Braginskaya." Yao smiled as he said this and Anya blushed lightly.

"Hey, Tino," Birgitta wave.

"Hi, Birgitta," he responded, trying to come off as happy to see them. "Who's watching Peter?"

"Mathilde," she replied, casually. She ignored the looks her date gave her. She also ignored the death glares Anya sent towards her. "Lukas went to take Emil to the rehab center or something." Tino nodded, sipping his wine.

"Well, it's nice seeing you," Yao mumbled, amber irises setting on Anya, who gave a small smile back at him. "I'll see you on Monday, Anya."

"Bye, Yao~!" she giggled childishly. Tino gave his goodbyes and the couple left to sit at their table.

Tino spent the entire night watching Yao Wang. The dark brown haired man would steal looks back at their table, not to look at him per say, but to look at Anya.

Tino really didn't care.

* * *

><p>Lukas sat quietly in the passenger seat of his car. He hated it when Emil had these late night sessions with the therapist, but as long as he was keeping it up and getting better, Lukas could care less.<p>

The Norwegian watched the Icelander slide into the passenger seat next to him, and his cobalt eyes examined his form. He hadn't gained weight. It was still disconcerting. The therapist, Miss Héderváry, had said he hadn't quit his little _problem_, but they were working on it.

Lukas trusted that it would eventually turn around.

"You missed our turn," Emil said, drawing Lukas out of his thoughts. "Lu, you missed our turn." Lukas smirked as he repeated this. "Are you even listening?"

Violet eyes locked with Lukas' and the young man glared. "I promised Kiet I'd call tonight!" Cobalt eyes glistened with mischief and he turned into a parking lot. Emil blinked, jaw hanging open as his eyes studied the sign.

"Thought a visit might be better," the older sibling stated, watching his younger brother rush up to the door.

* * *

><p>Emil's eyes locked on the Thai who was lying in bed. His usually spiky hair was in its normal, gel-less style. Kiet smiled, reaching for his glasses and sliding them on, standing up from his bed. "I've been waiting, Emi."<p>

His breathing hitched and he ran up and hugged the Thai man. "I've missed you," Emil mumbled, squeezing the other as tight as he could. Kiet chuckled, bending down to give him a quick kiss, but pulled away quickly. "Are there cameras in here?"

Nodding, Kiet sat down on his bed. Emil followed suit and the Asian laid his head on his shoulders. "How are you doing?"

"Withdraw symptoms are getting better." Yawning, Kiet let his eyes flutter. "I've been really tired, though, but I'll get over that." Emil smiled, brushing his bangs away from his face. "How about you? How's therapy?"

Emil shrugged. "Well, uhm, I'm stuck in that hard place, ya know?" he admitted. Kiet quirked an eyebrow and sat up. "It's like, I want to, but I haven't fully… conquered it."

"You're at least trying."

The way he said that made Emil's heart sink. It sounded condescending. It sounded like he didn't believe he was trying. "What's wrong?" Kiet questioned.

"The way you said that…"

"I've been moody," Kiet sighed, rubbing his eyes and laying down. Emil looked down at him. He looked like hell, to be honest. The bags under his usually bright eyes made them seem duller. His hair was flat and he looked pale. "I know, it's hard for both of us, but now that we can see each other, we can support each other."

"And if I can't visit, I can call you." Kiet nodded, stretching out. "You look tired. I think I should go. You need your sleep." Leaning down, Emil kissed his boyfriend. "I love you, Kiet."

"I love you too, Emi," he whispered, nuzzling the Icelander. "See you soon."

* * *

><p>"<em>Give a little bit.<br>I'll give a little bit of my love to you.  
>See the man with the lonely eyes?<br>Take his hand, you'll be surprised."_

* * *

><p><em>OH HEY GUYS. I'M BACK.<em>

_Yeah, uhm… so sorry?_

_It's out and I can finally focus on chapter thirteen._

_Does, uhm, anyone else like the official design for Fem!Denmark? I don't _mind_ it, per say, but… it must say, it gave me a great idea for the next chapter of the story._

_Until next time…? Whenever that is._

_**Adios~!  
><strong>__Darlene :)_


	13. Track XIII: Hate This Place

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XIII**  
><em>Hate This Place<em>

"I think I want to cut my hair."

The statement was totally random. Lukas was busy packing the books his girlfriend bought into a sack when she said this, messing with the pen on the counter. A pale eyebrow quirked in interest, and she gave him a sheepish smile. "Please come with me?"

"Do you think you do or do you know you want to?"

"I don't know, yet," Mathilde admitted, giving a small laugh when the Norwegian made a face. "It'd just be so much easier to care for. It's one less thing I have to think about. I want to make things as simple as possible."

He just shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to make a comment or press the issue. "Do you think I should?" Again, he shrugged his shoulders, unsure.

"It's your hair," he said. "I'm not going to dissuade you. If you want to do it, go for it." Mathilde looked up at the clock. "Okay, I'll go with you. It's almost my break." He waved one of the other employees over, indicating he was leaving.

Mathilde linked arms with him, leaning into the Norwegian. Lukas quietly walked them out of the book shop and down the street to the nearest hair salon. When they got there, Mathilde looked up at him with a slight nervousness. "Can I, like, help you?" the blond male behind the desk asked.

"Yeah, uhm… I want to cut my hair short."

The moment Mathilde muttered the phrase, the man was out of his chair and already petting her hair. "My God! Really? I've totally wanted to do a cute bob for a girl. Exactly how short are you thinking, hun?"

She shrugged. "Good, because I have a great idea. I'm Feliks. TORIS! Get this young man a drink, while I get work on this girl's hair!" A brown haired man looked up from his book and sighed dramatically. Toris walked over to Lukas, who took a seat in a nearby chair. "It won't take long."

"You're a brave soul, coming in here with her," Toris chuckled. "Feliks usually tries to get the men to color their hair pink or put in extensions." Lukas shrugged and watched as the man brewed a pot of coffee.

"You read my mind."

"You know, her long hair is pretty," Toris said, pouring two cups. "Why would she cut it short?" Lukas bit his lip, looking away. "Expecting a little one?"

"We, uh, can't have kids…"

"Adoption?"

"We aren't married or adopting," Lukas said, taking a sip from his cup. "It's kind of something she wanted to do, I guess. To make things simple. I don't really know what to make of it." Toris tilted his head in curiosity. "I'm guessing it's one of the many mysteries of women."

Laughing, Toris shook his head. "Feliks is the same way."

Another five minutes of casual conversation passed before the owner arrived out. "Introducing the new Mathilde Densen!"

Of course, Mathilde walked out with a spring in her step, but her hair did not bounce like it used to. Now, it was straight, with her bangs flipping out slightly. It was short, not even touching her shoulders. Lukas blinked, unsure of what reacting to use.

"Well?" she looked at him with a hand on her hip, waiting for a response. Lukas stood and walked over to her, gently touching one of her bangs. He smiled and nodded in approval. The Danish woman smiled and blushed lightly. After paying, the couple left.

Feliks twirled his scissors and looked at Toris. "I done good." Toris laughed and rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>"Mathilde Densen!" Birgitta set the pan down on the stove and rushed to her stepsister. "What did you do to your hair?" Birgitta had this thing about haircuts: once you got it cut or colored, she had to touch it and fuss with it until she was satisfied.<p>

"I cut it," she smiled. "I thought it would be easier to deal with…" Blinking, Birgitta messed with her bangs and sighed. "Don't you like it, Birgie?" Peter looked up from his home and the Swedish woman sighed.

"I do, Aunt Tilly!" Peter chimed in. Birgitta stepped back, examining the Dane, biting her fingernail. Finally, she nodded, her eyes tearing up. "What's wrong, Mom?" Birgitta shook her head and embraced Mathilde, who returned the action.

"I'm not going anywhere, Birgie." She was quiet. They didn't want Peter to hear their conversation. "I promise."

It was a promise they both knew she couldn't keep forever.

Pulling away, Birgitta nodded and wiped her eyes. "Tino's coming over," she said through sniffles. "He's going to have dinner with us."

"Yay! Tino!"

Mathilde froze in place. She knew that Lukas had addressed the issue, but she wasn't sure of what was said between them. It wasn't her place to ask. "Really?" Swallowing her pride, she sat down at the table next to Peter and chuckled. "Alright."

"Also, I'm going to court in two weeks."

"Alright…"

"I need you to testify for me."

Mathilde bit her lip. "Not a good idea," she muttered. "Isn't one of Artie's points that I'm too sick to help raise a child?" Birgitta shrugged and Mathilde knew she couldn't get out of it. "They won't put Peter up there, will they?"

"Arthur and I both agree he will speak privately to the judge if he so chooses."

"First time for everything." After that, the dreaded knock at the door sounded through the house. Peter shut his science book and rushed to open it. Mathilde bit her tongue. Her personal views on this didn't matter, anyway.

"Hi, Tino!" Peter smiled and hugged the man. Tino bent down to return the gesture. "Mom's almost done with dinner. We're discussing court!" Birgitta was horrified and immediately scolded her son. Mathilde started laughing hysterically and Tino took a spot across from the Dane.

"Uhm, very interesting." Looking at the other hostess, Tino coughed for a minute. "You got your hair cut?"

"No, I died it red."

Birgitta was shooting daggers at Mathilde mentally. Tino rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew hospitality from Mathilde was asking for a lot, but at least she hadn't lashed out on him. "So, uh, Mathilde… how have you been?"

"I've been great," she answered, giving him a bright smile. "How's Anya? Couldn't join us?"

"Mathilde Densen!"

"She had other plans," Tino offered a sweet smile, but the animosity was unbearable. "Maybe next time. Lukas couldn't come, I presume?"

"No, he's carless." Mathilde hummed in thought. "Emil probably went to see Kiet."

"He can visit now?"

"Where have you been?" Mathilde asked, but then answered her own question. "Oh yeah, you were being a pretentious ass." Birgitta slammed a glass of water in front of the Dane, almost smashing the cup in the process. "Okay, I'm done. I'll behave."

Tino nodded, accepting his drink and taking a sip. "Well, I guess I'm not as involved as I used to," indigo eyes looked over at a bemused Peter. "How's school, Skip?" Both Mathilde and Birgitta froze mid-action. Birgitta slowly set the pasta on a plate and Mathilde lowered her glass, staring at him.

"…what did you call him?" the stepsisters answered in sync.

"He called me Skip!" Peter smiled, explaining, "I asked if he could call me that." Mathilde and Birgitta exchanged confused and concerned looks. Tino swallowed hard and watched as dinner was being served. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all." Birgitta eyed Mathilde, who nodded in silent agreement. "Let's eat."

Conversation lulled, the occasional comment here or someone asking for something there. Eventually, Tino cleared his throat. "I have some news I would like to share with you first." It was obviously directed at Birgitta.

"Go ahead," the Swede smiled and adjusted her glasses, sending an admiring glance.

"Well, of course, I'll make the announcement to everyone else when I get the ring, but…" he inhaled and looked at her, smiling. "I'm going to ask Anya to marry me."

Peter looked at the Finnish man as if he had said he killed puppies and ate their livers. Mathilde choked on a meatball. Birgitta's expression fell. "Oh, I'm… happy for you." Peter stood up and slammed his chair into the table. "Peter!"

"Why?" the young boy questioned, on the verge of tears. "Why do you have to be like Jerk Kirkland?" After that, he ran off and Birgitta stood up, screaming. Tino sat there as the mother ran after the angry boy, watching Mathilde recover from her episode.

"Oh, yeah, don't mind me," she mumbled. "I'll just choke to death, ya know?" Taking a long drink, she didn't take her eyes off of the guest. "Why did you have to do that?"

"You wanted me to reiterate that I did not like Birgitta."

"You took what I wanted out of context, you ass!" shouted Mathilde. "You know, Peter admired you. You know why he wanted you to call him Skip?" Shaking his head, Tino leaned back. "I'll tell you. When Jerk was still around, that's what he called him. Skipper. Or Skip, for short."

She saw the color from Tino's face disappear. "He used to tell me how badly he wanted another daddy. He said he wanted them to call him Skip. He said he wanted Jerk to be jealous." Sitting back and crossing her arms, she frowned. "That's why he reacted the way he did."

"I'd be a horrible father."

As much as Mathilde wanted to agree, she couldn't. "You've done fine with him so far. At least he had someone _decent_ to look up to."

"I'm… I don't even know what to say," he stood up, not meeting her sky blue irises. "I'm so sorry. I need to get home." Rolling her eyes, she also stood. "I'll, uhm… I'll call?"

"I don't know if anyone will want to talk to you by then."

Tino nodded and walked to the door. Mathilde opened it and watched him walk out. Shutting it, she ran a hand through her short blonde hair, making her way down the hallway into Birgitta's room. Opening the door, she found the Swede sitting at the edge of her bed, head in her hands.

"Go on," Birgitta urged. "Say it. Say that you were right and I was stupid for believing him." She wiped her eyes and looked over to the Dane. "Say that I put too much hope in people who do nothing but disappoint."

"Do I disappoint?" Mathilde questioned. "Does Peter disappoint?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"So, you don't put too much hope in people who disappoint," sitting down behind the Swedish female, Mathilde began to separate sections of her hair. "Do you remember when we found out you were pregnant?" She began to braid her hair.

"I couldn't stop crying," Birgitta mumbled, dark blue eyes on the carpet.

"And I sat there, braiding your hair while I told you that everything would be just fine." Reaching for another piece, Mathilde began to hum. "And look where we are now." Birgitta gave a small smile. "Now, I'm saying it again. Everything will be fine."

"Yao is in love with someone else."

"Then find someone who will love you." Birgitta was about to protest. "You have me, Peter, and as much as you hate to admit it, your mother. Alva's always loved you. She's been the only family member who supported you and Peter."

Birgitta bit her lip. "I blamed her for the divorce. I thought she hated me because I never was the daughter she wanted."

"She could never hate you." Mathilde was almost done with the braid. "Would you ever hate Peter if he wasn't the son you wanted?"

"No."

"A mother can never hate their child."

"Neither can a father."

Mathilde's breath hitched as she finished and shook her head, but would not protest the thought. Birgitta was lucky. Both her parents really did care for her. However, Mathilde was different. They sat in silence.

And like that night so many years ago, Birgitta fell asleep next to her stepsister, crying.

And like that night so many years ago, Mathilde worried about Birgitta and her baby.

* * *

><p>Tino kicked a rock. He didn't mean to be such an <em>ass<em>. "That stupid Dane was right." The insults she threw at him, the way she talked about him to everyone and all her theories were right. Massaging his temples, he entered the place where he resided.

"Hey, I'm home," he called as Ivana looked up from a magazine. "Hey, babe."

"How was dinner?"

He froze in his tracks. He inhaled sharply. "Rather not say," he answered, hanging up his coat. "Can I ask you something?" Setting down the beauty magazine, he sat down next to her. "I know we've never really discussed the topic, but how do you feel about marriage?"

Anya's violet eyes went wide, and she looked away. "I know where this is going…"

"So will you marry me?" he asked, watching as the Russian stood up, shaking her head.

"No, I won't marry you."

* * *

><p>"<em>Can you feel it?<br>I didn't mean it.  
>Can you see it?<br>What are we doin'?  
>I think I love you, but I ain't sayin'.<br>Nothin' you don't know."_

* * *

><p><em>I'M SUCH AN EVIL LITTLE CHILD! *cackle*<em>

_No, but really. I cranked this chapter out in record time. Everyone bow down now._

…_not really but okay, anyway._

_I think I'm going to sleep now._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	14. Track XIV: Sympathy

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XIV**  
><em>Sympathy<em>

"Why not?" Anya turned on her heels and blinked. "Anya, please don't do this to me…"

"I'm sorry." She knelt down and kissed his forehead. "But you remember Wang Yao? Well… we talked it over… and I realize… I love him."

Tino blinked, trying to register everything. Putting two and two together, he snapped back violently. "So, you _cheated _on me?" Anya frowned, nodding. "And you decide to tell me _now_?"

"Look, I thought we could save this," she hissed. "You never made time for me and Yao and I really do… love each other. We've been 'together' since before I met you. You're a great guy, but I realized you're not a great guy for me."

Tino opened his mouth, but Ivana continued. "Yao said he went out with Birgitta because he wanted to see if it was real love he had for me. He said he was positive he was in love with me. He also said that Birgitta admired you so much…"

The Finn's heart sank into his stomach. Oh yeah, he forgot. "I'm sorry, Tino. If you ever need anything, call me. I already moved my stuff to Yao's. Bye."

She walked out the door and Tino had never felt like such an ass before tonight.

* * *

><p>"So, Emil," Elizabeta taped her pencil against her clipboard. "Have you been binging?" Emil nodded, the brown haired woman shaking her head. "Shame. You know, you haven't made progress and… well… we might have to take other measures…"<p>

"You are _not_ sending me to a psych ward."

The Hungarian's emerald irises sparkled and she frowned. "But, Emil, you're stubborn. If I can't do anything, then the only options are continuing this behavior until death or fully healing under more professional care."

The Icelander glared, his violet eyes narrowed in hate. "No," he said. "I've seen what psych wards and rehabs affect people. I don't like it. Kiet is not the same…"

"Who's Kiet?" she asked.

"My boyfriend." His therapist screamed loudly and Emil was almost positive his eardrums shattered. "He used to do drugs… but now… he's getting clean. For me…"

"Did he make you feel insecure?" Miss Héderváry pressed, wiping the drool from her mouth. Emil was concerned about his wellbeing, but he decided to ignore the fact she was practically foaming at the mouth.

"No!" he protested. "He… he makes me feel more secure. He made me insecure about my… issue, though. He's afraid to touch me…" He was positive she almost passed out after he said that. "He thinks he'll break me."

Grabbing for a Kleenex, Elizabeta hummed in delight. "So, have you two, you know?" wiggling her eyebrows, Emil turned red. "Had sex?" Emil stared at her in disbelief. "Does he like to send you pictures? Do you to roleplay out sexy scenes?"

"How are you a therapist?"

"Look, sugar," she sighed, obviously disappointed in the lack of response to her questions. "You said he makes you secure, correct?" Nodding, the Hungarian continued. "Okay, so, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for him. Make him _want_ to touch you. Make it so he can't keep his hands off of you!"

And as awkward as that was and the strange enthusiasm in her voice, Emil found that she was right.

"Okay," Emil nodded. "I get it. If he can do it for me, I can do it for him!" He stood up and shook her hand. "Thanks, Lizzie!"

"And next time you come in, bring a picture of your boy toy."

Emil blinked and nodded, unsure of how to respond. Elizabeta watched him leave and smiled to herself. For once, she didn't need to a tissue.

* * *

><p>Lukas was a bit worried. He hadn't seen or heard from Mathilde all day. His first thought was that she was sleeping.<p>

…but it was three in the afternoon.

He was worried sick. The possibility that something happened to her was his first reaction. He panicked, pacing the aisles of the store, reorganizing books and adding new ones to the shelf. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled out his cell and called her house.

Someone had answered, so that meant nothing major happened as far as he knew. "Hello?"

Her voice made his heart skip a beat. "I was worried."

He could see her blink and tilt her head. "I've been at home all day. Birgitta needed me."

"Is she sick?" he questioned. Mathilde let out an unsure hum and Lukas bit his lip. "How bad is it? Is it something with Peter? Is he okay?" He heard a sigh escaped from the other end. "Mathilde?"

"I need you to come over later. Bye," she said, hanging up. Lukas couldn't believe what had just happened.

…actually, he wasn't sure _what_ happened, but he was going to find out.

He finished stacking books and went to work the register. It was a slow day in the shop, so he sat back and relaxed. He watched people enter and leave. His attention was only drawn when his Finnish friend entered, leaning across the counter.

"I fucked up."

"Again?" Lukas sighed. Looking up at the clock, he gave out a loud groan. "I need to get over to Mathilde's _now_."

"Is your shift done?" Tino asked, biting his lip. "What happened?"

"Another hour," Lukas replied, tapping his chin. "And I'm not sure. Something with Birgitta or maybe even Peter. It had to be serious." Tino looked away, burying his face in his hands. "Okay, what happened?"

"I was over there last night."

Lukas blinked, crossing his arms. "I told you… I told you to be smart about this!" Tino sighed, looking up.

"I _know_, okay? That's why I fucked up. I thought," Tino bit his lip. "That… if I told them I was getting married, it wouldn't be a big deal. That way Mathilde would get off my case and Birgitta could focus on other men, you know?"

"You're getting _married_?"

"No!" Tino screamed. "That got fucked up too!" The Norwegian glared and the Finn explained. "I asked Anya to marry me last night. She told me no." Lukas rolled his eyes and Tino sighed loudly. "She said… she was in love… with someone else… who was the guy Birgitta went on a date with…"

Lukas felt horrible for Birgitta. "And I feel like such an ass. Peter… Peter really looked up to me. He said… I was just like… his father…" Lukas also felt horrible for Peter. "I'm so sorry. I know I didn't handle this to the best of my ability."

"Damn right," Lukas agreed.

"But I need help to make things right," Tino finished, shooting his friend a glare. I don't want to lose Birgitta as my friend. I want to be there for Peter. I want to see to it that Arthur Kirkland doesn't get control-!"

"Well, we'll see about that in two weeks, won't we?" The two looked behind the Finn to see said lawyer and Englishman standing behind them. Lukas blinked, unsure on how to respond. Tino growled, stepping aside as Arthur walked up to the counter.

"So, you're the bloke that has been helping my ex?" the Briton questioned, his emerald green eyes glued to the book on the counter.

"And you're the asshole trying to ruin her life?"

"Oh, isn't it just a lovely day," Lukas said, sarcasm obvious in his voice. Arthur shot him a dirty look. Tino chuckled, but then locked eyes with the dirty blond male.

"Look, Kirkland," Tino hissed. "You will not take Peter from his loving home."

"And I won't allow someone who is just another fuck up in his life tell me what I can't do." Lukas winced, watching the verbal bullets hit his friend. "Face it. You're just like me. Sure, you'll 'be there' for her, but what if something better comes along?"

Tino stood frozen. "You're going to be another me, except you don't have the child. You don't have an excuse to stay in her life." Grabbing his book, the Brit turned around and glared. "And quite frankly, if I were Birgitta, I wouldn't want you there either."

"Now hold on," Lukas stated. "I won't settle for this kind of talk."

Ignoring him, Arthur continued. "But then again, her better judgment about who should and shouldn't be in her life is kind of off."

"Is that something against Mathilde?" Arthur stopped mid step. Lukas bit his lip, waiting for the response.

"How do you know her?" he asked. "She's very sick. She's not fit to help raise a child, in my opinion. But, you know…" Lukas clenched his fists.

"That's my _girlfriend_, bastard," he growled through clenched teeth. "Now, get your ass out of here before I _make_ you." Arthur frowned, holding up his hands.

"Terribly sorry," he apologized. "I have nothing against you." He shot one last dirty look at the Finnish man before the lawyer turned and left for good. Tino turned to Lukas. For the first time in his life, Tino had finally witnessed Lukas get worked up about something.

"Hey, uh, you're done with your shift," Tino mused, watching his friend's expression change from anger to relief.

Tino stood there in silence as his friend left him, pondering what just happened and how he could fix this horrible mess.

* * *

><p>"Tino somewhat told me."<p>

Mathilde was busy frosting cupcakes at the counter and Lukas watched from the table. Sighing, she violently tossed the knife into the sink and almost smashed the creation into the plate. "He sounds like he's sincere enough."

"I don't give a shit."

"Mathilde," Lukas cleared his throat and the Dane shot him the look of death, "be reasonable with me. Tino and you have a common interest."

"Hate?"

"You both do not want Arthur in Peter or Birgitta's life." Sighing, Mathilde sat down and looked at the Norwegian. Sky blue eyes watched the pale hand brush her bangs away from his face. "I don't see what's so hard to use this for the time being, and in two weeks, you can officially rid him."

"Tino doesn't even _know_ what happened."

Lukas didn't either, but he didn't point this out. He was involved by affiliation, so he assumed Tino was only against Arthur by affiliation as well. The dirty blonde groaned and rubbed her head. "You okay?" he began to rub her knee, knowing that it had become increasingly sore over the months.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling well."

"It's the stress."

The silence that followed was what hit Lukas in the face the hardest. No matter what he told himself, Mathilde was _sick_ and no matter what else was going on, the stress that he claimed was ailing her would be gone, and when it was gone, the cold truth would set in and he'd have to face the facts.

She was sick.

She was deathly ill.

"Just, promise me something," Lukas pulled her to her feet and she looked at him with slight curiosity. "You won't completely shut him out until _after_ the case is over, okay? I have a feeling Peter tells Tino things he doesn't tell you two."

She rolled her eyes and he added, "Plus, I have a feeling that they'll call him to the stand."

Mathilde groaned, but Lukas knew she was secretly agreeing with him. Sighing in relief, he helped her to her feet and she leaned against him, yawning. "Someone didn't get much sleep last night."

"Had to stay up," she mumbled, being led to her room. "Birgie needed me."

Lukas smiled and began to walk her to her room. "Well, I think you should get some sleep now. Come on, let's go."

* * *

><p>"Raivis, I'm scared." Birgitta had been folding laundry down the hall, and was currently trying not to disturb Mathilde and her boyfriend. As she was walking towards the bathroom to put the towels away, she heard her son's voice whisper from behind the door to his room.<p>

"No, no… It's just," he began, and Birgitta leaned against the door, pushing her long hair behind her ears. "I really miss Tino. He knows so much about me and my mommy." It took all the willpower she had to not break the door.

"Besides, what if… Jerk Kirkland takes me? Because what if they don't ask me what I want?"

Birgitta bit her lip and turned violently on her heels, running over a short Norwegian in the process. "Oh! Lukas, I'm so sorry." She released her death grip on the towels and reached out a hand to help him up. "How are you?"

"Fine," he brushed himself off and looked at the Swede. "Actually, before I go… can I talk to you?" Nodding, she walked into the bathroom and began to put the towels on their rack. "Look, I know that last night… well, it was rough."

"I don't wanna talk about Tino."

Blinking, the Norwegian's mouth gaped. Well, if she was going to be straight forward about it… "But you have to realize that Tino has made a mark on Peter's life."

"I don't want him involved in the case."

Lukas blinked again, hesitating on what to say next. "I look at it like this: Tino has been the only strong, male figure during this whole time."

"Drop the subject. Now." Birgitta pushed passed him and walked back to her room. Lukas waited until she walked by, opening a nearby closet door.

"What if Peter told him-?"

"Get out of my house. Now." Lukas blinked, his cobalt eyes on dark blue ones. "I warned you." He didn't move, but looked at the ground.

"What if Peter told him things that could help you win the case?"

Birgitta froze, looking at the ground. Her mind began to spin, her thoughts an unorganized messed. Yes, Peter did seem to be a bit more hurt when Tino announced his plans to marry. He did let Tino call him "Skip" – actually, he practically _begged_ the Finnish male to call him that.

Lukas had a point.

Birgitta _hated_ to admit it, but Tino was a bigger part of this case than she ever imagined he'd be. Sighing, she turned on her heels and walked into her room. Lukas leaned against the wall, confused at how to take this, and looked down at his phone.

He sighed and walked toward the door.

* * *

><p>He kept looking at his phone, like it was going to magically ring. He sighed and twirled in his chair. "Yeah, Tino, you've fucked up."<p>

Standing up, he looked once again at the mobile device and bit his lip. No, she had to call him first. He would _not_ give in. Not at all. Yet, he couldn't help but reach for it, slowly. The moment his fingers touched the smooth device, it vibrated and he jumped back. His heart raced.

"Hello?" he whispered into the receiver. "Oh… yeah… no… I'm not… I will. Okay."

As he reached for his coat, he shifted the phone to his other ear.

"I understand, and Birgitta? I'm so sorry…"

* * *

><p>"<em>And stranger than your sympathy.<br>Take these things so I don't feel.  
>I'm killing myself from the inside out.<br>And now my head's been filled with doubt."_

* * *

><p><em>Reeeeeeeeeaaaaally rushed, but I wanted to get this chapter over with. Prior to anything I said before, this was the worst chapter in the fic. I hate the ending.<em>

_Just so you know, chapter fifteen (whenever I get around to it) will be a filler chapter, so don't expect anything too fantastical…_

_But it's time to end this. I need to focus on other projects. I'm trying to play out another IceThai fic, alongside a SuFin, DenNor, HongTai, and KoreaViet. I'm going to be a busy bee over this summer._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	15. Track XV: Not Broken

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XV**  
><em>Not Broken<em>

Sitting in the small café, the tall Swede glanced outside the window as the day became more overcastted by heavy clouds. She mumbled to herself and checked her watch, waiting for the man to show up. She saw the blond slowly walking down the street, his hood up and eyes casted low. He pushed open the door, removing his hood and surveying the scene.

He caught her glance and she huffed, drawing her eyes back out the window to watch the people walk by and cars speed off. "Hi, Birgitta."

She huffed again, giving him a nod, and picking up her cup of coffee. "I want to make this fast. I don't want to waste any more of _your_ time."

She was bitter, and he didn't entirely blame her – but shouldn't one be less harsh to someone she invited out of coffee?

"You're not wasting my time," he assured her with a smile, and all she returned was a stare. "Look, I just thought you should know… Peter… well, I don't know how to explain it… but I met your ex… and I don't want your son around him…"

"Oh, wow. You know, that's _exactly_ what I'm trying to prevent here."

Ignoring her sarcasm, the Finn continued. "Birgitta, I don't want to watch you lose him because I could've done more."

"Then how about you tell me everything he's told you?" she said, setting down her coffee. "Just tell me everything and you're excused from our lives. You're excused from _my_ life."

Tino set his cup on the table and then picked it back up again, unsure about how to go about this. "He told me I was a true father figure," he began. "This was after the first couple times I watched him. He said he wanted to be the person I was when he was older. He asked me to call him Skip, because that was what Arthur called him."

Pausing, he looked up at the Swede, whose cold expression remained unchanged.

"I didn't have the heart to say no."

Birgitta looked down at the table, her cold look faltering just for a moment before she returned to her default scowl. Tino noted the quick change, but returned to his story. "Peter said he was an accident. He felt guilty because he ruined your life and your relationship with Arthur, but I would always tell him you wouldn't have it any other way."

The blonde female's breath hitched. "He _said_ that?"

Nodding, the Finn bit his lip. "I know there's so much stress on you – the trial, Mathilde, raising a child – but Birgitta, you do realize it's affecting him too, right?"

"I don't need a fucking lecture if this is where it's going."

"I'm not," he deadpanned, looking up with his indigo irises. "Birgitta, you're an incredible mother. You're an incredible woman." He gently touched her hands, and she pulled away. "Please don't shut me out."

Standing up, she threw some money down on the table and walked out. Tino rolled his eyes and mouthed a few curses to himself before repeating her action and pushing the door open, watching her cross the street. Not even waiting for the light to turn, he sprinted across the street.

"Birgitta!"

Turning around, she pulled her hood up, saying, "Just leave, Tino. I have what I need. Go back to your fiancé, please."

"We're not getting married."

Birgitta looked at him, unsure of what to say. The rain poured down and she shook her head, turning on her heels. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of other women waiting for you."

"Yeah, but will you?"

Looking over her shoulder, she said, "I've been doing that since I met you. I think I should wait for someone else."

She walked over to her car, leaving the Finnish male alone in the pouring rain to ponder his own thoughts and her harsh words.

"But I'll always wait for you."

* * *

><p>"He seems to be suffering from violent outbursts."<p>

Emil sat in the office, shifting in his chair. Unsure of what to say, he waited for the man to continue with his explanation. "I'm assuming it is part of the withdrawals and everything, but we aren't too sure since it's not too common with the process. Are you sure you still want to see him?"

Nodding, the Icelandic male stood up. "Yes, I think I've waited long enough. I don't have much time here today, so if we could please hurry it up…?"

"I'm going to put a security guard in with you," the man said. "Just in case."

Following him down the long stretch of hallways, he approached the familiar room number. A man dressed in blue stepped up behind him and he shuddered. "Okay, if you have any questions or need anything, just press the assistance button on the wall."

He gulped and stepped into the room, the Thai dozed off on the small bed. Walking over to the chair by his bed, he sat down and began to brush his fingers through his tangled hair. "Hey, Ki. How are you?"

Reaching up, the Thai grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss into his palm. "Tired. I haven't slept in days." He placed his hand against his cheek and gave him a warm smile. "You look good. Much better." He looked over at the open door and the guard standing there.

"The, uhm… doctor… told me."

Kiet frowned and sat up, glaring at the man. "Kiettisuk, please," Emil gripped his shoulder tightly. "Please?"

He turned back to the Icelander and smiled, yet was still uneasy about the extra person in the room. "Okay, Em." He sighed, and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss onto the younger's lips. Emil returned it, but pulled away. "You look stunning. Gorgeous…"

Uncomfortable with the stream of compliments, he flushed and looked away. "Yeah, I guess things are coming along." He sighed and began to massage the skin on the back of his hand. "But what about you? I hear you've been…"

His brow furrowed. "I just want out. I hate it here. It just reminds me of when my dad was around and…"

Emil nodded, kissing his forehead. "I know, Kiet," he whispered, longing for more than just innocent kisses between them. He wanted that close intimacy they had before all of this. "But hey, it's for our family, right?"

"Our _future_ family," the Thai sighed, drifting off into a dream world. Emil nodded and looked down. "How is everyone else?"

"Mathilde seems to be okay, but… I have this feeling…" Emil mumbled. "Lukas is alright. Tino's… I don't know, and Birgitta's preparing for trial, so she's a wreck."

"I hope I'm out in time to see everyone – especially Mathilde."

"I know, Kiet." Embracing the Thai, he sighed and whispered into his shirt, "I know."

* * *

><p>"<em>And if the world has worn you dow.<br>I'll be waiting, so please come home."_

* * *

><p><em>HI GUYS HERE'S A FILLER CHAPTER. OKAY GUYS PLEASE DON'T KILL ME BYE BYE.<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	16. Track XVI: January Friend

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XVI**  
><em>January Friend<em>

Eduard and Birgitta sat by their table, discussing the finishing details, with Arthur eyeing them with intent. "So, I see your Finnish boy toy will not be here today?"

Biting her lip, the Swede ignored the Brit, and returned her attention to her lawyer. "Okay, that sounds good. Thanks so much Eduard." She embraced him quickly, and turned around. Towards the back sat the Dane, with the young Peter by her, and the Norwegian sitting by her side, his arm casually slung around her.

She smiled and the door opened, the Icelander entering as well and taking a seat, whispering to his brother and Mathilde before giving her a casual wave. Her mother sat directly behind her and she smiled. "You'll be fine, Gitta."

"This court is called to order. All rise for the honorable judge Edelstein."

They all stood, the chairs shuffling and people's whispering ceasing as the Austrian with the brown hair took his seat. "You may be seated." Everyone sat down and Mathilde leaned over to Lukas.

"Hold me back."

"Why?"

"Your opening statement, prosecution."

The lawyer for Kirkland – one of the best in the state – flashed the defense a coy grin before standing up. "Your Honor, my client here is concerned for the well being of his son. He has concrete evidence that not only if the neighborhood he is being raised in is shady, his mother is in deep financial crisis, and that she leaves him alone with various babysitters. Not only does he need a consistent parent–."

"Objection, Your Honor," Eduard spoke up, messing with a ballpoint pen. "The defense is stating clearly opinion, with no hard facts to back this up."

"Your Honor, he hasn't let me finished."

"Overruled," Judge Edelstein mumbled. "Continue, sir."

"As I was saying, without a constant adult figure in his life, Peter cannot grow to function with a constant role model as well. Also, we're concerned about the concern of the defendant's… other liabilities."

Eduard was about to fire up, but Birgitta stopped him. Mathilde was going to jump up, but Lukas and Emil reached over, holding her down. "And so, through the course of this case, we will show you why Arthur Kirkland should be given complete custody over Peter Kirkland. The prosecution rests."

"Thank you, Mr. Winter." The silver haired man smiled and took a seat. "Your opening statement, Mr. von Bock?"

Standing up, the Estonian adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Your honor," the blond began, adjusting his glasses. "Here, I have a copy of Peter Erik Kirkland's birth certificate." He handed it over to the man and sighed. "As you can see, there is no father's name available.

"Many years ago, a young, fifteen-year-old Birgitta Oxenstierna told her boyfriend she was pregnant. Birgitta was already under pressure from her father and stepmother to abort her baby. She told her boyfriend, Arthur, about their situation, and he said she gets rid of it or they're over.

"Obviously, she did not abort the baby boy, and before Peter was born, Arthur broke up with her and denied fathering any child with her."

"Objection," Mr. Winter's icy blue eyes fell onto the defense lawyer. "He is clearly over exaggerating facts."

"Then explain why Arthur Kirkland did not sign the birth certificate and has not paid child support since the birth of his son?" Eduard responded.

"Overruled."

Grinning, Eduard continued. "As I said, Arthur has never supported Peter throughout his childhood. Eventually, she was kicked out of her home and moved in with her stepsister, Mathilde. Two people and a toddler made things easier on Birgitta, but now Arthur decides to take responsibility."

Shaking his head, he concluded, "Your Honor, if a man cannot take responsibility for the child from the moment it is conceived, then I believe this man is in no position to be a real father and caretaker to said child. The defense rests."

Sitting down, everyone seemed to be glaring at Arthur who whispered something to his lawyer. "Your Honor, for our first witness, we'd like to call Vilhelmina Oxenstierna to the stand, please."

The tall, Danish women stood up, chuckling. She eyed her daughter in the back row and made a face. Mathilde looked down. "That's my mom. A real _bitch_."

"Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you god?" the judge asked as she raised her right hand and smirked.

"Of course," she sat down at the stand and waited for Mr. Winter to ask the first question.

"State your name for the record."

"Vilhelmina Oxenstierna."

"Now, Ms. Oxenstierna, you are the defendant's stepmother?" he asked and she nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I married her father about ten years ago. Sadly, he passed away recently… about five years ago."

"And you are also Mathilde's mother, correct?"

"Yes," she answered, eyeing her daughter. "You see, my husband died of lung cancer twenty years ago. She was really close to him."

"Like hell I was!" she whispered under her breath, causing Lukas to squeeze her shoulder. "She's making up shit."

"Lung cancer," turning to face the courtroom, he also looked at the shaking Dane. "A disease that has not only stricken the late Mr. Densen, but also his own daughter. Now, Vilhelmina, can you tell what brought on this disease in your daughter?"

"Objection, Your Honor," Eduard spoke up. "She is not a medical expert and therefore cannot testify to the full extent."

"Sustained."

"But Your Honor, she is her mother."

"Doesn't mean I fucking tell her shit!"

"Order in the court!" Slamming the gavel down, he glanced back. "I have spoken. Next question, _please_, Mr. Winter!"

"Would you say your daughter is in any condition to take care of a child?"

"Objection, Your Honor! This, again…"

"Overruled."

Vilhelmina gave another smirk, before saying, "Well, no. I think she just needs to take it easy. All this running around, worrying about others is… just bad for her health."

"Would you say Ms. Oxenstierna can raise a child?" Shaking her head, she laughed a bit before sighing dramatically.

"Well, no," she admitted. "Financially unstable, always working or looking for a job – teaching just doesn't pay that well – or out on dates. I feel Birgitta is more interested in finding a man than caring for Peter."

Emil gagged and everyone turned around and looked at the four in the back row; Lukas looked rather bored, Mathilde was gripping her pants in anger, Peter looked like he was going to scream, and Emil was just disgusted by the whole fact.

"If anyone else makes a comment, I will have them ejected from the courtroom!" Edelstein yelled and turned to the prosecution. "Any other questions?"

"No." Eduard stood up and walked up to the witness stand. "Now, Ms. Oxenstierna…"

* * *

><p>During the lunch break, the group walked outside and towards Eduard's car. "I can't believe that bitch just put us on blast!"<p>

"I think your rebuttal went well, Eduard."

"Mathilde," turning to the still fuming Dane, the Estonian sighed. "Listen to me. This is not going to be pretty. We already knew that. They're going to call you to the stand and twist everything you say. I will need to contact your doctor so we can get actual facts behind the, uhm, cancer."

Nodding, she sighed and leaned against Lukas. "I'm really tired."

"Go home for the day, Tilly," Peter chimed in, hugging her tightly. "You need to be better so you can tell those bastards how awesome you and Mom really are!" Laughing, Lukas pulled her in tight and kissed her temple.

"I'm with him. Come on, I'll take you to my house and make us lunch." Turning to his younger brother, he said, "And you will text me with how the rest of the day goes." Emil nodded and the group split up. Lukas gripped Mathilde's hand as he led her through the parking lot.

"Lukas, what if I'm not here to testify?"

"But you will be," he said as they walked past various vehicles. "Don't say that. Have you been sick lately?" She laughed and shook her head. "You'd tell me if you were… getting worse, right?"

Lukas turned around and looked down at her as she hesitantly nodded. "You know I want to be with you so much, but… if you don't tell me…"

"I'm fine! Now let's go. I'm tired and starving!" Unlocking his car, he frowned as she slid in. Something was off about her, yet she wouldn't admit it. Why couldn't she just be honest with him?

* * *

><p>After lunch, Mathilde curled up on Lukas' bed for a nap and Lukas dabbled around in his writing office. He glanced at his laptop, his typewriter, and all the pens and papers lying around. He sighed and picked up a page on the floor. He had no idea what project or idea it was from, it was just there.<p>

_The man turned to her and she embraced him. "I don't want to leave you. I'm so scared." Embracing her, the stoic man allowed himself to openly cry for the first time. "I don't know what's going to happen anymore. I'm just so scared."_

_He picked her up like she weighed nothing and carried her into his bedroom. They were a modest couple, so this action had no meanings behind it rather than to carry her to a comforting place. "Don't be. I'll always be here with you."_

_And as he kissed her lips gently, he whispered, "Whether it's physically or spiritually."_

_She…_

Crumpling up the paper, Lukas looked down at the floor and frowned. How come he couldn't just be honest with himself? He was fucking _frightened _about everything going on – that Mathillde would leave him sooner than expected, that Birgitta would lose Peter, that Emil would stop making progress, as would Kiet, and that Tino wouldn't be able to fix things with Birgitta – because so much uncertainty just made everything seem like it was worse.

"Lukas."

Her soft voice made him shiver and he spun around. "Hey. Mathilde," he forced a smile and stood up. "Just looking for something to work on I guess." She stood in the doorframe and looked at the sea of white papers on the floor.

"Something wrong?" he asked as she gnawed at her bottom lip.

"Bad dream." He walked over and embraced her. He felt like he could pick her up if he wanted to, seeing how much weight she had lost recently. "I just don't wanna be alone."

Nodding in agreement, they walked back to the bedroom in silence and Mathilde sat at the end of the bed. Lukas kicked off his shoes and looked down and over at her. "I'm not feeling so hot."

"I can tell." Taking a seat next to her, Mathilde's sky blue eyes seemed dull. Her entire personality was lackluster and he felt horrible that he couldn't help her. "I just want this whole trial to be over with and everything to be back for normal."

Lukas nodded and looked down at the flower, biting his thumb. "I want to go back to being healthy and happy. I want Birgitta to stop crying herself to sleep every night. I want Peter to not do things and then almost sob hysterically because it reminds him of Ti–!"

"I know," he interrupted. "I know it's hard. I wish things were back to normal. I wish I could go back in time and save my dad from killing himself. I wish Kiet and Emil would just be happy and healthy too. Emil told me Kiet's not doing so hot…"

Mathilde sighed and threw herself back on the bed. Lukas followed and laid down next to her. "But I promise that everything will be okay. No matter what."

She pulled him closer and connected their lips in a kiss. The slow, sensual feeling made Lukas' heart race. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He cupped her face and licked her lips, causing her to moan loudly.

"Did that hurt?"

"No," she laughed, pulling him back in. "Lukas… I…"

Breaking the kiss, he waited for her response. Not breaking the eye contact, she flushed and continued. "I want you to be my… my last…" she choked up and he ran a thumb across her cheek. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"As long as you can be my last too."

* * *

><p>"<em>Let's pretend, my January friend<br>I'm wanting you again  
>I wanna touch ya<br>Every single heart that beats pretend."_

* * *

><p><em>The court scene is dry and fail because I used what I've seen in movies and television. I'm too lazy to do real research.<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	17. Track XVII: Acoustic 3

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XVII**_  
>Acoustic #3<em>

"It's nothing like that!"

"Your Honor, please," Eduard stood up and sighed dramatically. "Mr. Winter is making my client overexert herself. She is not in the best of health, and the way he is twisting her words is making her flustered!"

Three days later, after countless other witnesses and evidence, Mathilde was the last of the prosecution's witnesses to take the stand. Why they saved her for last, no one was sure, but they were certainly doing a good job painting her as a careless, party girl who is now suffering the consequences.

"I haven't drank since I was in my early twenties."

"_After_," Mr. Winter turned to the defense table, "Miss Densen had discovered her cancer did she stop these reckless antics."

"Hey!" she fired back. "I was straightening out long before that."

"Miss Densen, may I advise you not speak unless I ask a question?"

"No," she leaned back and crossed her arms. "I feel offended. The only question you asked me was whether or not I had cancer. Well, no _shit_ I do – it _is_ one of your main points – but that's it! I feel like you just filled in the rest like you _know_ what's going on."

"Okay, _Miss Densen_," clenching his teeth, the attorney cautiously said, "What _is_ the _real_ story?"

"I was in my early twenties when Birgitta and Peter moved in. I stopped smoking and I was slowing up on my drinking. However, before I turned twenty-seven, I was at work and passed out. I woke up in the hospital the next day and they said I had lung cancer. After that, it was treated and contained but never went away."

Mr. Winter bit his lip. "The Prosecution rests its case, Your Honor."

"Defense?"

"No questions, your honor. May I request a fifteen minute recess?" the Estonian asked, smiling at Mathilde.

"Fine, but this will resume in fifteen minutes." Slamming the gavel down, people began to get up and walk around. Mathilde stood up, wobbling over to the table where Birgitta and Eduard sat, both discussing how to approach their side of the argument.

Lukas sat in the back with Peter and Emil was napping, snoring lightly. "Emil, wake the fuck up." Reaching over, he whacked his brother as hard as he could in the chest. Peter sat back and laughed hysterically while Emil struggled to catch his breath.

"What was that for, ass?" he asked. Lukas ignored him as he watched the Dane stumble a bit once she reached the table. The Swede gave her a concern look but her stepsister shrugged it off. Lukas got up and walked up to the trio, listening as Eduard finished laying out their approach.

"So, that's how things will go."

Lukas watched as Mathilde nodded, biting her lip. Although her fiery testimony seemed to show her usual personality, in actuality, she was feeling like _shit_. She had vomited multiple times before they came to the court house.

She gagged, and the Norwegian grabbed her arm, leading her out of the room. "Hey, it's fine. You did great." Even with comforting words, she still collapsed onto a nearby garbage can and hurled loudly. Cobalt eyes studied the tile on the floor like it was _fascinating_.

"I really hope my bitch of a doctor doesn't take too long."

The courtroom doors opened and Emil tilted his head. "Hey, you guys…?"

"We'll be in soon." Another loud hurl caused the Icelander to flinch and close the doors. Walking over to her, he began to stroke her back. "You should just go home. You can't possibly make it through the rest of the day."

"No!" she wiped the corners of her mouth and looked at her boyfriend. "Dammit, Lukas, you _know_ I can't do that. Not today. I need to be here for Birgitta and Peter and…" He blinked, fishing a piece of gum from his pocket for her and she took it.

"You want to be here for them as long as possible, right?"

"Yeah…" she knew where this was heading. She heard it multiple times with her damn stepsister and the doctors. Now, here came the lecture from her boyfriend. She sat down, huffing loudly and watching as Lukas paced in thought.

"You need to take care of yourself. Now is a hard time, and I can see why it's taking a toll on your health."

"Thank you, Dr. Thomassen," she hissed, crossing her arms across her chest.

"But being stubborn about it–!" Rolling her eyes, she stood up. "Mathilde…" Opening the door, she took her spot on the other side of Emil. Her boyfriend entered and Lukas sat next to Peter on the other end, trying to make eye contact with the Dane.

"Thank you, the prosecution has no more questions for Dr. Black."

"You may stand down," Judge Edelstein said and the doctor walked to the back and out the door. "Next witness, Mr. von Bock?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

"We'd like to recall Mathilde Densen, please," Eduard smiled and turned around, watching her walk to the stand with unease.

"You do know you're still under oath?"

"Yes, sir," she said, taking a seat. Eduard walked up to the stand. Locking eyes with Birgitta, she gulped, swallowing her gum and nodding.

"So, Miss Densen," the Estonian began, "As Peter's aunt…"

Before he could get to the question, Mathilde felt something coming on – a coughing fit. She turned her head into the crook of her arm and began to violently hack. Shaking, she felt like she was losing the ability to breathe.

"Mathilde!" Birgitta stood up.

"I'm – _hack_ – sorry," she finished up, and regain her composer. "Can I get some water please?" Arthur walked up, an unopened water bottle in hand. Viciously taking it from him, she took a large swig of it like it was beer and set it down.

"Thanks, jackass."

"Miss Densen!" the judge hissed.

"I did swear to be honest," she joked and this caused a few people to laugh. Quirking an eyebrow, the Estonian turned back to the Dane.

"So, what are your opinions on Arthur Kirkland?"

Inhaling, she said, "Look, when I was in high school, I dated his roommate – Birgitta came down with me because I knew she'd be able to drive my drunk ass home – and he was in college. I accidently introduced them and before I knew it, here comes Arthur Kirkland to family dinner, introducing himself as Birgitta's boyfriend."

Chuckling, she added, "And sure, maybe if I wasn't a reckless child, it wouldn't have happened, but the next thing I knew Birgitta was pregnant. Not only did our parents want it gone, Arthur did too. She didn't go through with the abortion. In fact, she broke down before we even got there.

"I was there when she told Arthur she was keeping the baby, and he said they were done. He said he didn't need a bastard child ruining his reputation as a lawyer. And now, thirteen or so years later, he thinks he can control Peter's life? It just doesn't fucking work that way.

"You can't say get rid of it, have no part in their life until it's convenient to you." She inhaled, feeling extremely lightheaded. She bit her lip and Eduard immediately realized she felt ill.

"No more questions, Your Honor. And Miss Densen…" he hesitated. "She has the stomach flu, I think. May she please be excused quickly?"

"The prosecution has no questions," Mr. Winter spoke up, and the Austrian nodded, watching as the Dane rushed to the back, greeted by a blond Norwegian who looked utterly concerned. After puking for the umpteenth time that day, Mathilde and Lukas were exiting when the courtroom doors opened, signaling that the day was done.

* * *

><p>"You had me really fucking worried, Mathilde." She spent the night with Lukas, and by the time she was ready to fall asleep, the nausea had passed. She seemed to be doing and feeling better. "You can't keep doing that to me."<p>

She yawned, refusing to acknowledge his concern. Lukas growled and threw his shirt down onto the floor with force. "You really don't care, do you? You scared me. You _scared_ Peter!"

"I know," she mumbled, burying her face into a pillow. "I just don't want to think about it. Lukas, I'm scared too."

He froze as he fiddled with the belt on his pants. "I'm scared of what's going to happen." She sat up, watching him turn his back completely towards her. "I'm worried about the trial. I don't want Birgitta to lose Peter. I–!"

"She won't lose him," the Norwegian hissed. "And this isn't about her right now. Mathilde, your coughing fit? That sounded horrible. It was worse than the last fit. You're getting worse."

She stood up and walked over to the dresser, grabbing her glass of water. Lukas waited for a witty response, but all he got was silence. "I know you're mad…"

"I know I shouldn't be," she sighed. "But it's so frustrating. I can't fix this problem and it makes me want to punch something." She shook and turned to him. "I hate when people tell me what to do, because I'm _trying_ but it's not working! I can't _do _anything!"

And Lukas knew that feeling. It was the feeling that he had felt multiple times. His parents' break up, his father's death… it all just came to mind. "I know, but you've done what you can. You've made it this far."

He kissed her cheek and she gave a small smile. Mathilde looked over at him and he sighed.

"Why should you give up now?"

"Because I can't keep fighting…" the Dane mumbled leaning against his shoulders. "I'm not as strong as I once was."

"But you're pretty damn close." Watching her hands grab a nearby ring, she fiddled with the jewelry, shrugging her shoulders in reply. He smiled, removing the piece of silver from her grasp and scooping her up. "If you even want to let me consider you going tomorrow, you need to get some sleep."

Trailing a finger along his collarbone, she said, "Fine. Only if you join me." He smiled.

* * *

><p>The Swede frowned, rubbing her temples. Bill upon bill, and various other things were just draining her. She was tired and the lack of sleep she had gotten the past few weeks was starting to take its toll.<p>

A knock was heard at the door, and she stood up. Groggily walking to the door, she opened it, and there was her ex. The bushy browed Brit looked at her, a disapproving frown on his face. "Good evening, Birgitta."

"It's damn near ten." She stepped aside. "Get in and say what you have to before I call the cops on your ass."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he didn't budge. "If you give up full custody of Peter, I will pay all the expenses for Mathilde's medical bills." She blinked, unsure of how to respond. "She's not doing well and you cannot afford a funeral on top of a trial. I'm not even sure how you can afford a lawyer."

"That's none of your damn concern." She crossed her arms and bitterly remarked, "And bribery gets you nowhere. Mathilde would rather die than hear I gave up my pride and joy for her."

"But you want to help her too?"

She sighed and turned around. "I do. But the answer is still no. Now scram." The Brit growled and turned, walking down the hall. Birgitta closed the door and collapsed. She bit her thumbnails and began to sob hysterically.

She hated the feeling of being left alone. She loathed the idea.

She was going to be left alone if Arthur took Peter, because cancer was already taking Mathilde away from her.

* * *

><p>"<em>And you know I see right through you<br>'Cause the world gets in your way  
>What's the point in all this screaming?<br>You're not listening anyway."_

* * *

><p><em>This chapter was a pain. This is kind of just leading up to the climax. I was going to add a large courtroom filler but you've had enough of those. So next chapter is going to be pretty fucking important.<em>

_I would have loved to have this up sooner._

_But my account was on submission suspension or whatever, so I couldn't. Due to the fact my story "Shit Happens" violated rules, without a warning or anything, it was taken down. Oh well. I guess I should actually READ the rules before submitting. Pffft.  
><em>

_Regardless, the wait was tolerable and you get a two chapter treat. EVEN IF THEY ARE SHIT._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	18. Track XVIII: Soldier

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XVIII  
><strong>_Soldier_

Two days later, after grueling both Birgitta and Arthur, the defense had one witness left. Birgitta _assumed_ it was Peter and prepped him for the initial idea of how things would go. She told him just be honest with the person asking the questions.

"Do you have any more witnesses?"

The door opened in the back, and the Estonian turned around. Leaning against the oak door was the light haired Finnish male, sheepishly smiling and looking over at the group sitting in the back. Mathilde mumbled something, earning a sharp elbow from Lukas.

"The defense calls Tino Väinämöinen to the witness stand." Tino quickly walked up to the stand and took the oath. Sitting down uncomfortably, he spelt out his last name multiple times before the Estonian gave a card to the court recorded.

"Now Tino," began Eduard, before he corrected himself, "Mr. Väinämöinen, you know the defendant and her son very well, correct?"

"Yes," he said, trying to avoid eye contact with the fuming Swede. "I used to watch Peter for her a lot. Her stepsister is dating my best friend."

"Would you say Birgitta was neglectful of Peter?"

"No," he said. "Not one bit. She cared so much for him. She just can't be home all the time. Nobody can, but she makes the effort. The world revolves around that boy for her and for Mathilde. I've heard the arguments that Mathilde is just a burden but I know she's not. She's an important part of Peter and Birgitta's life.

"They're their own little family. Breaking them up," he continued. "Would be like destroying a home that people still live in. I know, it's a bad analogy, but you wouldn't just go and knock down a house with people still in there, would you?"

The Finn met Birgitta's glance, and she turned away, looking down. "I'm not a great example of what Peter needs or what kind of parent he should have, but I can say for a fact Peter needs Birgitta and Mathilde, and they need him."

Eduard asked a few more general questions, causing Tino to go on long tangents about how Peter needed his mother before the defense rested their case. However, Arthur had been whispering to his lawyer the whole time.

"Now, Mr. Vanamonen?"

"Väinämöinen." Tino bitterly correct Mr. Winter before he cleared his throat.

"You said you were not a good example on what Peter needs or something of the sort?" the man continued. "Please, elaborate?"

Tino inhaled. "I was close to them. Peter looked to me as a father figure. He let me call him Skipper."

"Was there significance behind this?"

"Arthur used to call him that." Continuing, he said, "But then I got worried. I was worried I was making a mistake. So I overreacted and told them I was getting married. I told them I could have nothing more to do with them. This upset Peter. A lot."

"And so you think you have any jurisdiction on who should be in his life when you can't even figure out your own?"

"Now wait a damn minute," he raised his voice slightly. "What I did and why Birgitta should keep her custody over Peter are two different matters. Yes, Peter considered me a father and I let him down. Birgitta… I hurt her just as much… if not more."

Her dark blue eyes looked up and a deep frowned lined her face. "But what do I have to do with any of this?" he asked, and crossed his arms. "I was just brought in to _prove_ why she should keep him. Honestly, you'd think that Arthur would be more concerned about how he is going to deal with a child who calls him Jerk and resents him than what goes on in his ex's personal life."

Eduard's mouth was slightly agape, as if he was going to call out Mr. Winter on the same thing. "…the prosecution has no more questions."

"You may stand down." Tino got up and walked towards the back, only to be tackled by an energetic Peter.

"I forgive you."

"Your closing argument, Mr. Winter?"

"Wait!" Peter released the Finn and ran up to the judge. "Don't I get a say?" he asked.

"Peter, sit down!" Birgitta said, trying to pull him away from the judge.

"If you really want to," Judge Edelstein hesitated, "You may talk to me in private… if both sides agree."

"No arguments from us," Mr. Winter said. Birgitta bit her lip and nodded, and Eduard gave his consent as well.

"I will resume court when we have finished. Everyone, please leave the courtroom."

* * *

><p>Tino exhaled and stood on the sidewalk, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Indigo irises studied the cracks in the cement, and he sighed. "That's going to kill you, you know." Turning around, he saw the Swedish female, her expression hard, yet not entirely cold and resentful.<p>

"I only do it when I'm really stressed. This is one of those times."

Dropping the stick, he stepped on it and sighed, looking up from the ground. "Why?" she asked. "You didn't have to. I didn't _want_ you too." She bit her lip, unsure on how she should react. Should she be bitter? Mean? Thankful?

The Finn shrugged his shoulders. "It's not fair to you. Or Peter. And I fucked you guys over, but I refuse to let my actions ruin everything else for you." She looked down at the ground, and he took a step closer. "I'm sorry, Birgitta."

"…"

Her hard stare made him gulp. She took a step forward and he mimicked her action. "I really hope you don't think I'm a total douche."

She looked up and their eyes met. Instead of the hostile emotion she had in her eyes early, she looked almost forgiving. He leaned down and brushed his nose against hers. "So," he whispered. "Does this mean I get a second chance?"

She practically purred and placed her hands on his shoulders hesitantly. He lowered his lips to hers, just gently gracing them before she replied, "I think you'll have to make it up big time to me."

"I…"

"Hey! Yo! Stop making out! We're going back in."

Turning towards the stairs, the two flushed and Mathilde crossed her arms. Birgitta released her grip and composed herself, walking into the building. Tino walked by the Dane, and she grabbed his wrist. "Hey," she said, smiling. "Thanks. You didn't have to. I still don't trust you, though. You have an awful lot of proving to do."

He smiled and nodded and they returned into the courtroom, taking their seats after the judge sat down. Peter returned to the back and looked awfully proud of himself.

"I must say," Edelstein said, adjusting his glasses. "This is a very conflicting case. I will tell you now I have no verdict for this. I will expect you all back in two days at ten on the dot for the final verdict. For now, I'm putting Peter in the care of Arthur Kirkland. Court is dismissed for the day."

Mathilde practically screamed, which sent her into a coughing fit. "What?" Lukas said, turning to Tino, who was gripping the young boy's shoulders tightly. Peter looked up at the man and frowned.

"I want to stay with my mom and Mathilde!" he screamed, the older Brit approaching him and holding out his hand. "You can't make me!" Birgitta approached, standing behind the lawyer and her ex, watching as Peter clung to the Finn like his life depended on it.

"You will do as the judge says, Peter." Her voice was strained and she was trying to suppress her anger. "You'll see me in two days. Until then, please behave for Arthur." Tino released his grip and Peter pushed passed his father, hugging his mother.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Mathilde stood up, and took a shaky step away from her seat. She frowned and tried to collect her hazy thoughts. "Let's…" her hearing faded away and she could see people mouthing words through her hazy eyes. Her vision blurred and she took another hazy step.

The next thing she saw was a bright light, slowly being surrounded by darkness and her entire body grew heavy. The next thing she remembered was darkness.

* * *

><p>"<em>I know things change, your world has slipped away<br>I know things change, but you're living like a soldier who's caught in the fray  
>Don't lose your faith, it's not so cold, it's not too late."<em>

* * *

><p><em>DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN. Uhm I had a pain in the ass time with this chapter. You can tell.<em>

_Anyway, this is just a future note. I'm only coming on here for this story now. After I finish this baby, I'm going to be on AO3 (Archive of Our Own) from now on. If you like my work, I'm abiirosee over there. So yeah._

_Anyway… enjoy?_

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<br>_


	19. Track XIX: Iris

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track IX**  
><em>Iris<em>

"I wonder how she's doing."

"Is she awake yet?"

"I think she's coming too."

"Mathilde!"

"Peter, don't yell!"

The flurry of voice around her made her head spin and she blinked, sky blue eyes tying to register the people around her. After about a few minutes, she forced herself to sit up, and hissed as she did. She noticed she was not in her apartment or her bed.

And she knew she wasn't with Lukas in his room. She looked down at her arms, with the various IVs attached to her arm and patches that made her pale skin itch. She bit her lip and let out a quiet sigh. Everyone else remained quiet and finally Birgitta spoke up.

"You passed out," she said, looking at the clock. "You've been out for a couple hours now. The doctor said…" the Swede coughed and bit her finger. "I'm sorry, I…" she finally let out a pained sob and Tino gave her a side hug, trying to whisper comforting word to her.

Mathilde looked like she had just witnessed a murder – although it was pretty damn close – as her stepsister wept and had to leave the room. Sitting in a chair was Arthur, looking rather flustered by the whole situation.

"You said you'd get better…" Peter whispered. Mathilde's heart clenched up in her chest and the young boy frowned.

"I tried," she said, motioning him to sit on the end of the bed. "But you remember what I said? It wasn't my decision." Peter nodded and she leaned over, kissing his forehead. Arthur stood up, and she sent him a dirty look.

"Come along, Peter."

The teen sighed and slid off the bed, leaving without any rebuttal. Mathilde looked over at the Icelander who was passed out on the sofa and the Norwegian who was leaning against the window frame. "So…" she said, smiling, but it was a week smile.

"You scared me."

"Why?" she asked, gulping. Lukas frowned, quirking an eyebrow.

"I was afraid you weren't going to wake up," he began and walked over to the spot where Peter sat. "I was so afraid. I never told you how special you are. I'm scared that I could've lost you before I let you know."

She reached forward and gripped his hand. "You know me better than that."

"The doctor says he doesn't expect you to make it out of this one."

"I know. I don't expect myself to make it out of this one." He frowned and she inquired, "What else did he say?" He hesitated and she tilted her head, the innocence and friendliness still glowing behind her tired eyes.

"He said… you won't make it to the end of the month. And if you make it to the end of next week…" Biting his lip, he looked down at her hand, which seemed so much colder than before. "It'd be a miracle."

She gasped, looking down at the white sheets. He sighed, squeezing her hand and leaning forward, cautiously kissing her cheek. It was like she would break if he wasn't careful. "I need to be there for Birgie. I need to be there for Peter!"

"Don't be irrational."

"I'm not!" she shouted, pushing him away. "I want to be there for them! I'm not vulnerable. I'm not… I'm not weak. I don't need to be here." She choked back tears and almost ripped the various IVs from her arm. "I… I just need… to do this… on my own."

Lukas stood up from the bed, shaking his head. "You're being stupid! Mathilde, if you keep…"

"Don't you _dare_ give me that damn speech!" she cut him off, venom in her voice. "We all _knew_ I was going to die. It wasn't like we didn't _expect _it! But telling me I can't do things… it won't slow it down. You have to let me be me!"

The Norwegian shook his head, unable to understand what would make her go off like this. Maybe it was because she was still delusional from the fainting spell? He wasn't sure.

"Please, just stay here and rest."

"Make me."

"You're not weak," he said. "You're not vulnerable. You are there for them. But you need this break. You need a vacation."

"What a shitty place for a vacation." He bit his lip.

"I'm trying to help you through this…" he hissed. "I'm trying to support you! Why is it that when I try to show even some concern, you shove me away and act like _I'm_ an idiot?" She bit her lip and looked away from him. "Dammit, Mathilde! I'm _trying_ for you." When she didn't reply, he held up his hands.

"I need to collect my thoughts."

Excusing himself, he left the room and left the Dane alone in her own thoughts. "He's a real keeper, I swear," a chiding voice added, laughing. She turned to the sofa and the Icelander propped himself up. "How are you, Mathilde?"

"How much did you hear?"

"Around the time you began to scream about having to be there or something of that nature." He got up, stretching out and walking over to the bed, rocking back and forth on his heels. "You know, he's really concerned."

"I can tell." She frowned, unsure on how to continue that sentence to make it sound less bitchy. "But he acts like… like it wasn't going to happen. He was concerned for my health, but he _knew_. The moment we started dating… I told him I was dying."

Emil shrugged to himself. "You can _never_ stop being concerned, no matter how much you knew or the fact that the problem is under control or…" he paused, a frown outlining his features. "No matter how bad things get."

"You're thinking of Kiet."

"I never stop worrying. And he just is sitting there like I'm stupid for worrying. Like… he fusses over me… but… he's making me nervous too."

She nodded, starting to see where many people came from with their concern. "It's not easy when everyone fusses over you and everyone around you wants to pretend they can change the inevitable," began the Icelander as he grabbed his coat. "But it just shows they care so much for you."

"Wait." She reached forward, grabbing his arm. "I don't want to be alone. Please don't leave me."

He frowned, and set his jacket on the foot of the bed.

"I'm afraid." She had never been this honest with someone and it was just that moment it came pouring out. "I'm afraid I'm going to die and everyone will forget about me and how much I _loved_ them – how much I will continue to love them!"

His frowned deepened and he watched her break into hysterics and handed her a Kleenex box. "What if I die before I tell Lukas I love him? Or worse… what if I die and Peter doesn't get to see me? Because what if they put him in Jerk's care? Or if Birgitta gets into a relationship and I'm not there to drill her new beau?"

Emil could not answer these questions and she knew it, but it was nice to have a comforting hand there and someone to listen to her cries and rants.

* * *

><p>He sat down on the damp ground, forgetting the fact he was still in his nice clothes from the trial earlier today. He stared ahead, unsure of what to say or how to say it. "Hey, Dad," he whispered, reaching forward and running his fingers over the words etched into the headstone. "It's been awhile, huh?"<p>

There was no response but the wind picking up. "I'm sorry. I've been so busy." He was whispering, letting the wind carry his voice along into the distance. "But I really wish you were here. More than anything in the world."

Well, that wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth. The wind howled and he flincged.

"Actually," he hesitated. "I wish you were here… and that Mathilde would just let me help. And that she would get better…"

But he knew that the last wish was something he couldn't change. Well aware of the fact that her fate had been long decided before their impromptu meeting, he knew nothing could change the path laid out for her.

"I don't know what I should do."

The gust of wind practically slapped him in the face and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. It was like _someone_ was telling him to open his eyes and the wind began to die down. Slowly opening them, a loud rumble was heard in the distance. He tightened his coat and stood up, biting his lip.

Hovering nearby, next to a tree was a shadowy figure. He squinted, trying to get a better look, but once he blinked, it was gone. Like a figment of his imagination. Yet, that hallucination gave him the courage to do what he needed to do.

"Thank you, Dad," he breathed, folding his hands together and bringing them up to his mouth. "Thank you for always being here for me." Wiping the corners of his eyes, he bit his lips and felt a small droplet hit his head.

The rain began to slowly fall and the Norwegian decided that his father was up there, crying with him.

**Xx**

Birgitta eventually entered the room and Mathilde told her what Lukas said. She eventually told her how Lukas freaked out on her and how she felt so guilty. Birgitta sat in the nearby chair, listening to her stepsister repeat the words she told Emil.

"You're so lucky," the Swede concluded, curling up in the chair. "You have a boyfriend who loves you… a family who cares for you… amazing friends… and yet…"

She bit her lip.

"Don't dance around the subject," Mathilde scolded, her voice raspy and her breathing shallow. After a few minor coughing fits, she continued on. "I already know I'm _dying_. It's been this way for years."

"I know…" frowning, Birgitta's eyes lowered to the floor and she sighed. "You _never_ have to worry about… not being loved, though. You never have to worry about being forgotten."

She frowned, and they sat in silence for a while. Eventually, Birgitta left to return to their house and Mathilde sat alone in the dark room, the only sound coming from the television. The Dane gripped her bed sheets and sighed.

"I just want to be normal again."

And she knows her little prayer can never be answered.

* * *

><p>"<em>And I don't want the world to see me<br>'Cause I don't think that they'll understand.  
>When everything's made to be broken<br>I just want you to know who I am."_

* * *

><p><em>So I will admit I had a mental breakdown halfway through this chapter because… I was laughing to hard at all the things on Tumblr.<em>

_And I was watching Whose Line Is It Anyway?_

_That show makes me delusional. Very delusional._

_I can't even coherently type a author's note…_

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	20. Track XX: Here Is Gone

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XX**  
><em>Here Is Gone<br>_

Birgitta sat in the apartment complex by herself for the first time since she moved in with Mathilde. Sipping the wine she kept up in the cabinets for special occasions, she rubbed her temples and frowned. "I'm going to lose my baby…" she whispered as hopelessness surged through her entire body and she frowned. "I'm going to _lose_ Peter."

It was a surreal feeling. She had never doubted herself this much in her life.

"And I won't just lose Peter…"

She frowned as the idea of her stepsister, alone in a hospital with all these tests being done on her ran into her head. Mathilde so desperately wanted to _avoid_ that situation all over again. She hated being sick from every little thing they did to her, only to have them come in and say it did nothing to help her already ailing self.

"What am I going to do?"

The idea and thought of being along really got to her and she started to sob. She chugged the rest of the wine in her glass and got up, wiping her puffy eyes and got another glass, swishing the red liquid around in the glass until a loud knock echoed through the house.

"It's open," she shouted, peering around the corner to see the Finn standing in the doorway. "Oh… Tino." Mumbling something to herself, she slammed her glass down and wiped her lips. "I wasn't expecting company or I wouldn't have drank this entire bottle."

Eyeing the empty, green tinted container that once held the drink, he frowned in disappointment. "I see you aren't taking this so well."

"What if your sister was dying and your son was gonna be ripped from your life?"

"The last part isn't true–!"

"No," she murmured. "Not yet it's not." Tino frowned and walked over to the counter, leaning across it. "Mathilde's getting tests done or else I'd be there. She hates it when we wait on her during these tests." The dark blue eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm guessing Peter hasn't stopped by?"

"I don't think Arthur will let him," Tino hummed in thought. "Not that he doesn't _care_; he just thinks that Peter shouldn't be around death, I'm sure." The female snorted and the male shrugged again. "But Arthur can't control that Peter will want to be there…"

"Yes, he can."

"No," Tino breathed and smiled, causing her to laugh a bit. He always had this natural smile that made it impossible to cry or be mad when he was around. "Because you'll have custody over him when she does go."

The sentence made her bust out into hysterics. She walked around the counter and lunged herself at the Finn. She was feeling so many different things she didn't know what to do. She just stood there, face buried in the fabric of a cotton t-shirt and cried. Tino stroked her hair, unsure of what to do or say, but felt it was better just not to say anything.

* * *

><p>"You see, a really close friend of ours is dying and I know Kiet wants to be there when she passes."<p>

The doctor clicked his tongue, unsure of what to tell the young man. Emil's violet eyes stayed trained on the old man, pleading with him for this leniency. He knew Kiet needed to be there when Mathilde died, and not only because he wanted to.

Someone had to hold Emil together when the time came too.

"I'm afraid that Mr. Sripuy will be unable to handle that kind of pressure."

His face fell. Emil tried again to reason with the gray haired man but it was no use. "His… erm, _hallucinations_, so to speak, that he describes make me worry about his sanity, and his outbursts are too common."

"_Please_," Emil's voice was weak and shaky, barely audible to his ears at first. "I _need_ him. She _needs_ him. We all _need_ him to be there. Maybe some time out of here will be good for him." He was practically begging. The man frowned, knitting his eyebrows in thought.

"Only if you keep him under heavy surveillance."

Emil smiled. "I will _never_ let him out of my sight."

* * *

><p>Mathilde was back in her room by three. An entire morning and most of her afternoon taken up by pointless tests that would suggest things she already knew wouldn't work. There was always the fifty-fifty ratio that you'd die in surgery, but her death ration was more like ten-ninety.<p>

"I just want to go home." Lukas looked up from the magazine he was pretending to take interest in as the doctor continued his speech. "I want to die in my bed, with the people I love around me." Birgitta bit her lip and turned to the doctor.

"I don't need medical treatment; I need peace and quiet and love."

Lukas worried his bottom lip and the man whispered something to Birgitta, who just nodded. Leaving the room, the Swede looked at her stepsister. "You want to go home?"

"Yes," mumbled the Dane. "I don't care if I'll breathe better here. I just want to go home." Laying down, she sighed, closing her eyes. "Do what you have do, just get me _out_ of here."

Birgitta left the room and Lukas got up sitting on her bed. "Lay with me, please." He nodded. Lukas was careful not to pull the various IVs and chords out of her and adjusted himself so that her back was pressed against his chest.

"How are you?" he asked, although he knew the answer. She snuggled up to him, bringing his hands up to her lips and pressing kisses against his skin. "Are you sure you want to leave?"

"I won't get any better here."

"But you could live longer…"

His thoughts drifted off as she turned, pressing their foreheads together. "I've lived long enough. You might have prolonged that. I've been ready to die for years now."

Lukas gulped. "But we want you here with us as long as possible."

"Trust me," she brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I know what I'm doing."

Lukas couldn't help but feel like she knew something he didn't.

* * *

><p>"<em>And I want to get free<br>Talk to me  
>I can feel you falling and I<br>Wanted to be  
>All you need<br>Somehow here is gone."_

* * *

><p><em>I needed a filler chapter. A bad filler chapter.<em>

_Next chapter is going to be better, I promise._

_I just... I don't know.  
><em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	21. Track XXI: Well Be Here When Youre Gone

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXI**  
><em>We'll Be Here (When You're Gone)<em>

She was discharged from the hospital at midnight.

Mathilde refused to let them keep her and threatened to walk out herself if they didn't discharge her before sunrise tomorrow. When they said that they wouldn't keep her, she then threatened that cancer wouldn't be the cause of death by sunrise.

Needless to say, the doctor begrudgingly agreed and decided that with nothing they could really do for her, keeping her in the hospital would be pointless. Tino and Lukas pitched in for some at home care for Mathilde to make sure she was comfortable and medicated properly. Birgitta felt slightly better with Mathilde returning home, but was still a bit of a wreck over the verdict being later that day.

With that coming up, they turned to the Icelander to keep an eye over Mathilde, who had been sick since she left. However, he had an appointment that same time, and eventually talked them into letting his boyfriend, who seemed to be returning back to normal since leaving the rehabilitation center, to stay with her.

Birgitta was busy pacing the hallways at three in the morning, unable to sleep. She glanced at the pictures on the nearby table, before worrying her bottom lip and walking down the hallway. "Birgie, go to bed."

The weak voice was that of her stepsister, and the Swede frowned, pushing her door open before commenting, "You should be resting."

"Rest, shmest. You have the verdict tomorrow."

"I'm so scared." She entered her room, taking a seat next to her bed. The Dane rolled onto her side, her once bright eyes now dull and filled with something unreadable. "I'm going to lose him. I'm going to lose you. I'm losing my _family_ right before my eyes and I can't do _shit_ about it."

"You won't lose Peter," Mathilde's scold was hardly a scold anymore. "Stop thinking like that. And I'll never leave you guys. You remember when I said I wanted no regrets and that I'm going to die happy?"

"Yeah…" she mumbled.

"I'd only die happy if I can be with you guys always. Like… spiritually." Her voice had become increasingly raspy over the past couple days. She also said it was a bitch to breathe.

"Like a ghost?" Birgitta smirked, and the two softly chuckled. The Swede ran a hand through the Dane's dirty blonde hair and sighed. "Just try not to scare Peter. I'm never forgiving you for that horror movie fest. He _still_ thinks the building is a gateway to hell."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mathilde's grin was more natural than it had been. "Besides, I'd probably pick on the neighbors with Peter and harass the landlord. What I always did when I was still kicking it." Birgitta frowned, her dark eyes scanning over her stepsister.

"Don't talk about yourself like you're already dead."

Mathilde didn't argue or agree – she just laid there and sighed loudly. Birgitta's hand was still combing through her short locks when she heard the light snore. The Swedish woman's small smile returned as she curled up in the chair, her hand still petting through Mathilde's hair. It wasn't long before she herself drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Do you mind if I bum a beer off you guys?"<p>

"You probably shouldn't be drinking."

Mathilde was sitting in the recliner, her eyes glued to the television, although she wasn't actually watching it. Instead, she was listening to the Thai bustle around the house, doing various things before he settled onto the sofa, a beer in hand. He popped the cap off and she reached towards him.

"Can I have a sip?"

"You probably shouldn't be drinking," the Asian mocked, but passed her the open bottle anyway. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a cautious sip. She hadn't drank since her first incident, and it was a foreign, yet addictive taste to her. She coughed, passing it back to Kiet and settling back into her chair.

"I haven't drank in years," she mumbled.

"Well, I guess now's a good time to start again," Kiet mumbled, adjusting his glasses and taking a drink himself. "Not like you're doing so hot anyway."

"I hear you aren't fairing any better."

He paused, before shrugging it off. "…touché, my dear."

"I heard stories about you…" He gave a quick, hallow laugh. It wasn't like he hadn't heard that sentence before. "Emil says you've almost overdosed three times. You've been on the brink of death. Got any advice for me?"

"They all thought I was crazy," he whispered, sitting up. "I'd somehow come around and I'd tell them what I saw. I'm standing in the hospital room, and I can see and hear what's going on around me… but I'm unconscious. A bony hand grabs my shoulder and tries to lead me out the door. The first time I fought back. The second time I made it to the end of a hallway with a bright light and somehow woke up before I continued…"

He paused, trying to control his breathing. "And the third time?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"I went down that bright hallway and I was in the graveyard across the street from here," he shook. "An open grave with a casket next to it and a headstone with my name. I begged and pleaded. I tried to bargain for my life. Death is kind of a bitch… but he asked me in this voice that made my blood run cold… he asked… what I had to live for. He asked me what I could've done differently…"

"And you answered what, exactly?"

"I said I had love to live for. I said," he bit his lip. "This beautiful man was waiting for me. He was sick himself, and I needed to help me. I said I wish I could've been there to care for him the rest of the time… basically I just gushed about how much I loved Emil…"

Her body shook and she curled up, tugging the blanket tighter.

"Then, I got in the casket… and the next thing I knew, I woke up, drenched in sweat in an empty hospital room."

"So you have hallucinations?"

"I'm positive it was drug induced, but… you know," he shrugged his shoulders lightheartedly. "Most of my hallucinations are related to my, ah, addictions, so to speak."

"Emil said the latest ones were due to withdrawal," she was saying that to herself rather than him. "Tell me about those?"

He frowned, growing pale. "I don't want to talk about those with you. Or anyone…"

"Why?" she crossed her arms, scanning over him.

"Because they started to involve you."

* * *

><p>The courtroom was quiet and sullen. No one had said a word upon arrival. Eduard had pulled Birgitta up to the front and was talking to her. She looked like she was about to cry. "They lost him." Tino clenched his fists, and Lukas frowned. "They lost him," Lukas repeated.<p>

"We don't know that," mumbled Tino, who was trying to suppress his anger the moment the door opened and Arthur walked in, practically dragging the young Peter by the wrist. He tried to wave to the three Nordics in the back row, but Arthur would not allow it.

The moment the judge entered, the atmosphere tensed up. "Now, please understand that this was a long and hard process, but I had to make a decision. With what was presented with me, it was impossible to decide…"

He picked up his gavel. "The court was to rule in favor of the prosecution and that Arthur Kirkland was to have sole custody over Peter."

Birgitta gasped, trying so hard not to cry. Eduard shook his head, removing his glasses and sighing. Emil groaned loudly and Lukas shook his head. Tino stood up, and was about to walk out before the judge spoke again.

"However, I have received word from the prosecution they wish to drop this case and return sole custody to Birgitta Oxenstierna. Mr. Kirkland would like to meet with you, Ms. Oxenstierna, and discuss a possibility of visitation rights."

Tino turned around, his jaw practically on the floor.

The defense's side grew quiet, unsure of what to say. The Swede meekly nodded and Eduard spoke up. "Yes. We can arrange that after court is dismissed." Judge Edelstein nodded and dismissed the court, standing up and leaving. Peter jumped up from his seat behind Arthur and ran up to his mother.

"Mama!" he jumped up and she caught him, spinning him around.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, hugging him tightly and setting him back down. "Peter!" She knelt down and hugged him tight, kissing his forehead and fighting off tears. Arthur approached them and Birgitta stood up, straightening her clothing.

"You didn't have to do that."

"You were always right," Arthur mumbled, his emerald eyes on the floor. "However, I do want to see him. Maybe spend some time with you."

"Not like we once were, of course…"

"No… besides," he flushed lightly. "You were the only girl I really ever loved…"

It clicked and she chuckled. "Maybe I can meet this new guy? I mean… if he's going to be around Peter…"

"Then I need to get to know him better." They turned and faced the Finn, who was chatting with the Norwegian in the back. He flashed Birgitta a giddy smile and she snorted. "He doesn't seem horrible though."

"He's not…"

Their conversation came to a lull and Arthur excused himself, saying that he'd call soon. Mother and son walked to the back of the room, and Tino embraced the Swede. "I told you. I told you." She laughed, but didn't admit he was right. The five walked out and decided to return to the apartment for a few drinks.

* * *

><p>Kiet had been dozing off since <em>Wheel of Fortune<em> came on. Mathilde had been fast asleep in the chair, only stirring when she coughed or hacked. He often would get up and recover her weak body with the blanket before resettling himself back in and closing his eyes.

"I'd like to buy a vowel…" the nasilly voice of a female form the television said and Kiet groaned, covering his ears. However, she said it again and again. He sat up, realizing something was very off.

"_You don't touch her yet."_

"_Her time has come."_ The Asian shuddered and recognized the voice immediately. The one who made his blood run cold and heart stop. The one who had been out for him all these years. Death had come back.

"It's just a dream." He whispered this to himself.

"_You don't touch her yet."_

"I'd like to buy a vowel…"

He bit his thumbnail before sliding back down onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. _"You don't touch her until I say she's ready to go."_

"_Why should I listen to you?"_

"_You'll be fucking with my _son_." _The voice began to shout, and it sounded heavily accented. _"I want them to be happy before she goes. Now, you do what I say, or else."_

"_Whatever you say, Marcus…"_

He rolled off the couch and hit his head on the floor hard, jolting him awake. Panting, he stood up and saw the show had ended. Sighing in relief, he turned around and faced the recliner, only to be receiving a hard glare from the Danish woman.

"Bad dream?"

"Yeah… sure."

"Was it about me?"

He didn't respond and before Mathilde had the chance to press, the apartment door flew open and someone was running toward them. Landing in her lap (and ignoring the light groan), was the young blond boy.

"Peter!" she shouted, embracing him before she started to wheeze. "Oh God… Oh God…" She wheezed again and began to feel awfully lightheaded. Kiet pulled the young boy off of his aunt and let her regain some compouser before letting him crawl back into her lap.

"I'm home for good, Mathilde!" he smiled, kissing her cheek. "I'm going to spend all the time I can with you."

As soon as everyone else was in the apartment, they gathered around the living room, talking and laughing. Lukas had taken a seat by Mathilde's feet, and the Dane slid down onto the floor, cuddling up next to him. Kiet had restrained from talking most of the night, and when he and Emil were leaving, the Icelander stopped him, pushing him up against the railing.

"What's wrong?" he asked, holding his wrists down.

"It's the…"

"Oh, the hallucinations again?" Emil frowned, and Kiet nodded, staring into his intent violet eyes. "What are they about? Are they like the ones…?"

"They're not about me… " the Thai felt his boyfriend release his grip. Kiet joined their hands and they began to walk. "…hey Emi?"

"Yes?" the younger male turned and frowned.

"Do you know… anyone named Marcus?"

Emil snorted. "That's such a general name…"

"Anyone _dead_ named Marcus?"

They stopped before they reached the crosswalk, and the silver haired male frowned. "…where did you get that name from?"

"He's one of the people who…"

"Marcus Bondevik has been dead for fourteen or fifteen years."

"Who _is_ he?"

Emil frowned, looking at the pavement below his feet.

"He was Lukas' biological dad."

Kiet's eyes widened, and suddenly it all made sense.

* * *

><p>"I love you, Mama," pressing a kiss to her cheek, the little boy curled up and began to snore lightly. Tino smiled from the doorway and Birgitta approached him, a content look on her face. She looked back and sighed again. Pushing past the Finn, she reached her bedroom and sat down on the end of her bed.<p>

"You're a great mother."

Indigo eyes studied her and she flushed. "I'm getting better every day…" she leaned reached for her feet, removing her shoes and rubbing her narrow feet. "It's going to be hard when… when Mathilde dies." She choked, finally able to realize the full extent of what had been happening all along.

"She won't die until you two are happy and comfortable. She'd never allow that."

"True." Tino sat down next to her and smiled, rubbing her back in circles until she announced she was going to change into something more comfortable. He nodded, walking over to the door.

"We should go out for dinner."

"When are you free?" she asked, walking over to her dresser drawer and pulling out a large t-shirt. He turned around, leaning against the frame and shrugging. "Weekends are the best for me."

"How tomorrow night?"

She smiled and walked over to the man, before smiling. "I'd like that." He began to walk away, but she caught his arm. "Bye. Thank you so much."

"I owed you one for being a douche." He smiled. "Bye." She released her grip and shut the door behind him, sighing dreamily as she touched her pink face.

* * *

><p>"Have you ever wanted to get married?"<p>

The question came at three in the morning when he realized that they had been laying in bed, wide awake since eleven. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling the familiar scent that she always had and sighed. "No, not really."

"I did," she mumbled, pressing her back closer to his chest. "One time, I was a junior in high school and my friends and I crashed this wedding for fun. I watched the bride walk down the aisle… and I knew I wanted that moment when all everyone can say is how beautiful and young I looked and how amazing the day was."

"You don't have many of those days, I'm guessing?"

"Not since I was in college."

She hacked and he winced. "I wanted a mermaid dress, you know? Ever since I was little I wanted to wear one. I wanted flowers in my hair and a wedding on the beach. But… you know… the short hair wouldn't look as good with flowers and there's no beautiful beaches around here…"

"Do you really need to get married to be happy?"

"I didn't think so," she hummed. He blinked. "I thought if they stuck around, they liked you enough. But then… I realized… when you find something amazing, why would you not want to stake your claim on it?"

"So I'm like a good piece of land to you?"

"You're ruining the moment."

He laughed and kissed her hair. "I'm just saying that's what it sounds like. So you really think I'd be worth a wedding?"

"You make me happy," she shrugged. "You still love me regardless of circumstances… how are you not worth a wedding?"

"I've never really liked weddings," he mumbled. "I watched my mom marry three different men – and none of them were my father. I felt like if she was going to stand up there and lie about loving this guy forever, then why would I do that to myself by standing up there and saying the same shit?"

"Would I be worth it?" she asked, frowning and turning to face him. "Would I be worth standing up there and promising forever? Or would I be breaking that promise?"

"You put me in a hard spot," he hissed. "You _are_ worth it, but forever might mean a few months, weeks, days… hell, even _hours_ with you!"

"What's worse: one hour of happiness followed by death or a lifetime of regret just because you were afraid?"

Rolling his eyes, he kissed her forehead. "But isn't it better to die knowing you were loved and committed to? You don't need a fancy rock on your finger to prove that. My mom didn't realize that. Now look where she is in life."

Mathilde did not respond and only turned her back to him, putting some distance between them. When he was certain she had fallen asleep, he carefully crept out of her bed and sighed, slipping on his shoes and slowly walking outside and across the street.

* * *

><p>"<em>And we'll be standing when you're gone<br>And we'll be heard again  
>We missed our chance but not for long<br>I know somehow we will hold on we'll be here  
>When you're gone."<em>

* * *

><p><em>This had been sitting incomplete for days. Only a couple more chapters left guys!<em>

_Uhm yeah someone has to have a happy ending... kind of. Birgitta got one.  
><em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<br>_


	22. Track XXII: Black Balloon

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXII**  
><em>Black Balloon<em>

The chilly night and fog covered the cemetery in a thick blanket. Lukas was never one who would get impulsive and climb a fence, just to see his father's headstone, but tonight he needed to. He sat down, quietly examining the marble headstone, rereading that name over and over again.

"I'm getting sick of talking to a rock."

His voice was cold, but he did not mean it bitterly.

"I miss you. I can't just sit here and watch someone else I love die before my eyes anymore."

The wind blew and he shivered. Lukas bit his lip, burying his face into his hands. "I could've saved you. I should've seen it coming. I really should have. Like I should've seen this coming. I finally meet someone worth loving and we aren't even going to be able to have a happily ever after."

He inhaled the scent of fresh air and cool breeze, shuddering. "How am I ever going to figure this one out? She wants a wedding… and I… I just want her to live and be happy… with me. Am I selfish for wanting that?"

There was no reply, but a gust of wind hit him hard and he groaned. The fog had thickened and he shivered. "Maybe I am, but I want _Mathilde Densen_ all to myself. I don't want anyone – not even _death_ – to take her from me!"

A violet howl was heard and he squeezed his eyes shut. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, opening his eyes and watching as the thick fog began to fade.

The headstone was illuminated by the moonlight, and Lukas reached forward, grabbing a small, square object that was lying on the flat surface. It was soft in his hands and he looked at it.

A small, red velvet box.

He looked at the rock in front of him, the name _Marcus Bondevik _staring back at him. He sighed, nodding his head. "I don't know if this was left here on accident or if you're trying to tell me something, Dad," Lukas whispered, holding the box close to his chest. "But I now know what I must do."

* * *

><p>Kiet didn't sleep well that night and Emil was starting to feel on edge because of this. "You're not going to start using again, I hope you know."<p>

"It's not because of that!" the Thai shouted, snapping his fingers as he shakily grabbed the coffee cup that was placed in front of him at the waffle stop. It was four in the morning, and nightmares had kept him up. Emil eventually gave in and they decided to go to the shady little eatery downtown.

"Then what is it?" the Icelander grumbled, eyeing his boyfriend.

"I read somewhere," the Thai began. "That sometimes people who have been on the brink of death are more heightened to… death since they almost had a similar experience."

"This has a lot to do with Mathilde," Emil hummed in thought. Kiet nodded. "You're uneasy because of death… and apparently Marcus is involved in this?" his tone hinted at disbelief. "You know, you've been going through _a lot_, and… yeah. Plus…"

"Never mind," Kiet stabbed his eggs with a fork and growled. "I don't expect you to understand this." He glanced out the window, the Icelander sipping his coffee. "I'm sure Mathilde would understand. She's possibly living that reality right now."

"Kiet, let's keep in mind your circumstances." Emil whispered, lowering his eyes. "Coming off of ten plus years of substance abuse can do a lot to your mind… fuck it up… maybe it is coincidence Marcus is in your… _dreams_."

"Of all the people who died, it's him though."

"Coincidences."

Kiet's eyes narrowed. "There are no such things as coincidences."

A low rumbled was heard from outside and Emil shook with unease.

* * *

><p>Mathilde stood in the kitchen, unsure of what was going on anymore. She awoke in a horrid mood and discovered her bed cold and empty. Her stepsister had informed her she'd be out for the night. Peter was excited to be able to spend some time with Mathilde.<p>

"Hey, Peter," the Dane mumbled, slowly walking into the kitchen, trying to conceal her pain. The young boy looked up from his book and Birgitta set a plate down in front of him. "Come here with me for a minute," she motioned him over and he hopped off the stool, rushing to her side and assisting her to her room.

She knelt down, slowly, but her dresser and slowly pulled the bottom drawer out, digging under her sweatshirts. She hacked and sighed, finally reaching in and pulling out something shaped like a treasure chest. "I want you to have this," she whispered.

Peter took the box from her. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's all my recipes I've ever come up with…" she placed a gentle hand on the side of his cheek, her rough voice explaining her gift. "I need someone to carry it on. You're my nephew. I want you to continue to bake. And then one day, you'll pass it on to one of your children…"

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder. "I love you, Aunt Mathilde!" he sobbed, tears staining her baggy t-shirt. "I'll never forget you! I'll bake something every day and add my own recipes and make you proud!"

Mathilde smirked. "You already have, kid." She tried to fight back the tears that were forming, because what good would it do her if she cried? He let go and she pressed a kiss into his forehead.

"I'll make you the shortbread cookies tonight!" he grinned, flipping through the book. "Alright? Now get some rest!" he commanded, and walked out of her room, shouting to his mom and asking her about various ingredients listed.

She had no idea how long she had knelt there, but it had to be hours. She just sat there, staring off into space, feeling a cold chill shiver up and down her spine every once in a while. Her thoughts drifted back to so many things, but one thing crossed her mind.

"How could he just leave me there by myself…?"

There was a loud bang, echoing through the halls, and she stood, her body shivering as she took each step cautiously, slowly passing Peter bustling around in kitchen, not even blinking an eye as the pounding continued.

She opened the door, her sky blue eyes on the figure that stood before her. "Lukas."

"I'm sorry," he hung his head, arms stretched out as he stumbled over an apology. "I had to go to the gravesite. I had to see my dad. I had to."

She frowned, shaking her head. He didn't say anything but dropped his arms to his side, having been denied a hug from his girlfriend. "You're just apt to piss me off, huh?" she crossed her arms, glaring at the Norwegian.

"I changed my mind."

"Changed your mind about _what_, exactly?"

"I want to get married." He reached into his pocket, pulling out the little box with the silver band, with one, small gem placed on it. "I went to the cemetery… and when the fog cleared… this was there. It… it was like… I was being _told_ to do something…"

"I don't want you to marry me because you're forced to." He slipped the band onto her ring finger. She brought it up to her face, frowning. "Lukas…"

"No, listen," he grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer. "I realize that you're the muse I needed. Don't take this the wrong way, but Mathilde Densen, one day I'm going to write a story about you. I'll write about the wonderful times we had together and how we fell in love. I don't want our story to end where you slip away and I stand there, regretting that I didn't promise my life to you."

She blinked, a light blush tinting her pale face. "You can wear anything you want, as long as you stand up there and say I do. Hell, we can just wear jeans and a t-shirt. It's not romantic or anything, but it's fine as long as you say you'll be my wife."

She shook, immediately falling into him, squeezing him as tight as her fragile body would let her. She bit back tears, coughing and choking on what to say.

* * *

><p>"<em>Comin' down the world turned over<br>And angels fall without you there  
>And I go on as you get colder<br>Or are you someone's prayer?"_

* * *

><p><em>I finished one of my fics over on AO3, and now I'm going to try and finish this one (then transfer it over to AO3).<em>

_I can spot anyone looking for an invite code. I can get more and I have two unused ones~_

_Uhm not much here. Happiness is brief guys, very brief._

_I was rushed to get this done because I'm leaving town for the next three days and I wanted to get this up.  
><em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	23. Track XXIII: Truth Is a Whisper

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXIII**  
><em>Truth Is A Whisper<em>

She stood before the full length mirror, eyes glued to the reflection, which was eyeing her back as well. She clicked her tongue in thought, in complete awe of her figure. She looked better than she had since… well, since her _first_ incident – the one where the doctors had told her she had only months to live.

And now it was years later and she was getting _married_.

She didn't even remember looking _remotely _pretty before. Not even for prom or homecoming or any other school dance. Her hands gripped the fabric, and then released it, adjusting the top by the sequence straps.

"This dress makes me look pale," Mathilde turned to her stepsister, watching the Swede fuss over Peter's tuxedo. The young boy huffed and Birgitta frowned.

"You wanted to get married right away." Mathilde looked back into the mirror, examining the floor-length white dress with a black, sequin boy tied around her waist. They had gotten it for cheap from a local high school student selling old prom dresses before she left for college. They were lucky to find her, as it was such short notice for an actual wedding gown, covered in lace and jewels with flowers in her hair and a big puffy skirt that would stretch down the aisles.

"Besides," Birgitta grabbed the veil from a nearby table, placing it on top of her dirty blonde hair, trying not to fuss with it, as it had taken hours to get straight. "Any other color would've washed you out. Thilde." Rolling her sky blue eyes, she placed her hands on Birgitta's firm shoulders. The dark blue eyed Swede brought her own hands up to wipe her eyes.

"Thank you for everything."

"Mathilde," Birgitta smiled, gently placing her own palms on the Dane's bare shoulders.

"I love you sis," the Danish woman whispered, pulling the taller female into a tight embrace. "And you too, Peter!" Birgitta released Mathilde, and the young boy stepped up to her, hugging her waist.

"Love you too."

Birgitta grabbed her purse, placing a hand on her son's head. "If we don't leave now, we'll be late for the wedding."

* * *

><p>"Set me as a seal upon your heart," the man said, looking out into the small, decently crowded church. "As a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave."<p>

Lukas gave the Dane a rare smile, and she smirked. "Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord." She squeezed his hands lightly. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, he would be utterly despised."

The priest talked for a few more minutes and Lukas grew anxious. "Now, for the vows and the exchanging of the rings."

Mathilde smiled and reached over to the pillow the young boy was holding, grabbing the golden band from the white, lacy pillow. Peter smiled and she sighed, turning back to the Norwegian. "It's been hard and crazy," she started. "And I love you all the more for doing this. I'm so happy to become your wife and that we can spend the rest of our time together."

She was trying to avoid the delicate subject of death. Lukas nodded, gnawing at his chapped lip, trying not to think about that right now.

"Because of you, I don't dare think about what will happen in the future, but what's happening now and how I don't regret anything. You helped me through my best and worse, and I want to be there for you." She reached over, slipping the band on his fourth finger on his left hand.

"And with this ring, I, Mathilde Freja Densen, promise you, Lukas Alexander Thomassen, to love you forever – even after my dying day."

He froze, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "I…" he stuttered. "I know that… that our time together has been short. I know that it's not going to be like the fairy tale endings everyone talks about. I know that, but at the same time, I don't care."

He looked down at the wooden floor, licking his lips.

"It's been damn worth the time we've spent thus far, and whatever time we have left will be worth it." He reached over and grabbed the ring from Peter, slipping it onto her slender finger. "That is why I love you, and with this ring, I, Lukas Alexander Thomassen, promise you, Mathilde Freja Densen, to love you…"

He looked straight into her damp eyes. "For the rest of my life and then after."

Mathilde smiled, leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "We aren't there yet." Tino earned a hard elbow from the Swede and groaned in pain. Emil sighed, shaking his head and Kiet cracked his knuckles, waiting for the ceremony to finish up.

* * *

><p>"I love you."<p>

They were on the floor of her room, too lazy to actually get up and walk to her bed. She stretched out, fiddling with his tie. Lukas hummed, nodding and staring at the ceiling, his tuxedo jacket unbuttoned and opened.

"Thank you," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his cheek, leaving a pink stain on his skin. "This day has been incredible. The reception, the wedding… it was perfect." He rolled onto his side. "I can't believe it… I just…"

He hummed again, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "Go to sleep, Mathilde." She frowned, looking at him with her intense, sky blue gaze. "What?"

"Sing me to sleep, Lukas."

He bit his lip, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of her pale skin. He sighed, keeping her hand close to his lips. "Another time, I promise." She pouted, but did not press the issue. She squeezed his hand and closed her eyes, her breathing uneasy and her body shaking as she seemed to drift off to sleep.

He breathed in the familiar scent of her. Sighing, he continued to press light, fluttery pecks onto her digits, cobalt eyes watching her struggling efforts to breathe. His own chest constricted and his breathing shuddered. "God, please…" he mumbled. "I asked you to bring her into my life… don't take her out." He mumbled into pale skin and

He closed his eyes, inhaling loudly and trying to suppress the sob that was trying to emit itself from his lips. Mathilde opened one eye, a frown painted across her face. "I'm not going anywhere," her statement was hardly audible and she squeezed his hand again.

However, she knew she couldn't keep making that promise for long.

* * *

><p>"<em>Yeah, you're caught in the rules of the world<br>It's a just a promise no one ever keeps  
>Now it's changing while you sleep<br>There's no one here can see."_

* * *

><p><em>Bleh. BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY GOING TO BE BETWEEN 4 - 6 CHAPTERS NOW. OH GOD.<em>

_Another filler chapter. I'd hate myself too._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	24. Track XXIV: Stay With You

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXIV  
><strong>_Stay With You_

It was two weeks later and Mathilde could hardly walk.

Lukas would often sit by her bedside. Sometimes they'd talk and sometimes she'd sleep. If she was sleeping, Lukas would sit in his chair, scribbling down words onto his notepad furiously. He had already used three different notebooks in the course of those two weeks.

"Lukas," she managed to say, as speaking had gotten harder on her. "You should sleep."

It was two in the morning. He glanced up, the dim light illuminating her ghostly face. He rubbed his temples, shaking his head. "I can't." She frowned, watching him set the pen down on the nightstand. "I'm sorry, Thilde."

"Hey," she murmured, pointing to the notebook. "How about you climb into bed and read me a bit? I mean, it's pretty much my life story told by you, isn't it?" She watched him stand up and collapse into the large bed.

"Thanks for helping me with this," he mumbled, rolling onto his back and flipping the notebook to the first page. "It means so much. I mean… you didn't have to… but still…" She raised a finger to his lip, and he noted how clammy her skin felt.

"Shut up and read."

He huffed, rolling his eyes, but adjusted his glasses. "Okay…" he inhaled. "She wasn't the kind of girl who would get overly passionate about something, unless it was her family. She truly loved her stepsister and her nephew. That's kind of how our story started…"

As he read, he noted her eyes flutter open and close, often times adding comments here and there through yawns. Eventually, he found himself starting to drift off to sleep and reached over, placing the almost full book onto the nightstand and turning the lamp off.

"Good night, Mathilde."

She smiled, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"I love you, Lukas."

He wrapped his arms around her frail body, sighing.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p>Birgitta stood by the counter, leaning against it and worrying the skin of her bottom lip. She could taste the metallic taste that came from her lip and sighed. "No… everything will be okay. You and Peter will still have a place to live."<p>

But she _knew_ it would kill her to stay in the house after Mathilde was _gone_ and walk by her room every day. She knew Peter would never look at the place the same way again and she knew that they didn't have the money to afford a move.

"Mom?" Peter stepped into the kitchen, his blue eyes examining the woman. "Why are you still up?" he scolded, sounding much like a parent himself.

"I'm sorry, hon," she walked over and knelt down, brushing his bangs from his face. "You need a haircut."

"What are you doing?" the blond asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Are you okay?" he asked her. "Are you sick?" he began to press, panic lacing the sandy blond's voice. "Oh… don't be sick! What if you leave me like Mathilde is leaving us?"

"Everything's fine, baby…"

She reached for him, but he slapped her hand away. "No! I'm tired of everything being sugarcoated." He tried to keep his tone at a considerably low level in respect for the Dane and Norwegian who were possibly asleep. "Everything is _not_ fine. You're trying to make me feel better, Mathilde's _dying_…"

"Peter…" she hissed, and watched the young boy roll his eyes and shake his head.

"No! You're just going to sit there and tell me it'll be 'just fine' and 'everything's alright.' It's _not_, Mom!" He turned on his heels and looked over his shoulders. "And I'm almost positive it will never _be_."

He stomped to his room, and when she heard the door close, Birgitta covered her face with her hands, and groaned.

"What am I going to do…?"

* * *

><p>The house had been quiet most of the night. With Lukas at his wife's home (Emil was <em>still<em> getting used to calling the Dane something other than "girlfriend"), the Icelander had the house completely to himself.

…and he realized how _boring_ it was without someone else around.

He had cleaned up everyone room in the house, save Lukas' little room for writing (he refused to touch the hot mess that was the writer's work space). He cleaned Puffin's bird cage and read a couple books. He spoke briefly with Elizabeta on the phone, scheduling some appointments here and there, and then he'd lie in bed, hugging the stuffed elephant his boyfriend was overly fond of and _thinking_.

His thoughts drifted back to Lukas and Marcus. As a child, he had _always_ been overly jealous of Lukas' close relationship with Marcus. Even after Marcus'… _untimely_ death, Emil still felt that Lukas had something he'd never have. Sure, Emil's father was still there… _physically_, but he wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and vice versa.

Marcus had _always _promised Lukas he'd be there. _Always_. Marcus had also told their mother he would _always_ love her. He wanted to give her and Lukas their fairytale ending, but that didn't work out at all.

"There's no such thing as happy endings."

The thought crossed his mind, and he groaned. "Especially when someone else is promising to give you one." And he could now speak from personal experience on this one.

It had been the day of the wedding. Kiet had pulled him aside during the wedding reception, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. _Do you love me?_ he had inquired. _Of course,_ Emil responded. Kiet kissed him again before suggesting, _Then let's get the hell out of this city and get married._

With very few places that _allowed_ gay marriage, the closes place was many miles away from their home. _I don't care,_ Kiet had murmured against his neck, _if I have to leave the country. I'm going to marry you and then we're going to have a large family. I promise you'll get your happy ending._

The whole idea was romantic in an aspect and Emil had a short lived high around it… until Kiet was readmitted to rehab after a failed drug test. It had turned into a screaming match that would have escalated into worse if Lukas had not been there to pull Emil off the Thai.

And now, Emil – forever the cynic – was ready to just give up entirely.

His thoughts were interrupted as he reached for the ringing telephone. He groaned, picking it up and rolling onto his stomach. "Hello?" he muttered, listening as the person on the other end shifted their receiver and sighed.

"Hey, Em…"

"No," he deadpanned, shaking his head. "Don't talk to me right now."

"I know…"

"You _promised_, Kiettisuk!"

"I _know_." He heard teeth gritting from the Thai's end. "I needed it. I can't stand sitting around and seeing shit and do _nothing _about it. I needed… I needed it."

"You fucked up."

"I fucking _know_ that, Emil!"

He cringed, Kiet hissing in annoyance as the silver haired Icelander embraced the plush elephant tighter in his arms, inhaling the familiar scent of his boyfriend. "They're putting me on methadone… you know, because… nothing else…"

"Whatever gets you clean, Kiet."

Emil switched the phone over to his other ear, and they remained in silence. "I love you so much."

"Then prove it."

Emil hung up and cuddled closer to the stuffed toy, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Lukas."<p>

Mathilde was sitting on the edge of her bed, her body aching and worn down. She could just _feel_ herself shutting down, and tried to play it off, but everything was inevitable. It had been for months – for _years_ – and yet, she couldn't bring herself to face the fact.

Lukas shifted from his spot in his chair, moaning as he rubbed out a kink in his neck. "Yeah?" he grumbled, removing his skewed glasses and sitting up straight. She huffed, trying to push herself off the bed, but stumbled as she launched herself forward. "Dammit, Mathilde," he groaned, jumping up and pulling her against him, holding her close.

"Will you take me to the cemetery?" she pleaded, looking up through her dulling eyes. "Please? I… I need to go there."

If it had personally been up to Lukas, he would not take her out and bring her to a place filled with dead people. He couldn't even step foot in a graveyard for _years_ after Marcus' death, and now he knew the vicious cycle of fear and anxiety towards burial grounds would start up again once Mathilde had died. However, he didn't refuse her request and once he had found a large blanket and a couple bottle of waters – which Mathilde carried – he helped lead her across the street and into the cemetery.

"I wanna go to my father's grave."

He obliged and took the blanket from her, unfolding it and neatly placing it on the ground in front of the Danish man's headstone. He sat down and pulled her down into his lap, watching her take small sips of her water, occasionally coughing.

"It's weird."

"What is?" he quirked his eyebrow, his voice low and monotone. She shrugged, her eyes glued to the magnificent piece of marble in front of them. She tilted her head back, resting it against his shoulder. "Oh… the whole… you'll be reunited with your father soon thing?"

"Maybe."

Mathilde's whole personality seemed off. Lukas noticed her answers were vague, her gaze fixated on Mads Densen's grave. He hummed, pressing a kiss into her hair. "You never sang me to sleep." The statement was out of the blue and caught the Norwegian off guard.

The platinum blond sighed. "Do you really want me to?"

"It'd make me happy," she replied, adding, "Your dad would love to hear you sing too, I bet."

He froze, his blood running cold. He shook and tried to compose his thoughts. "Yeah," he swallowed the lump in his throat. "He would." He inhaled, and hummed a somber tune, before he felt comfortable enough to add the words. His voice echoed through the deserted graveyard.

He began to rock them back and forth, the words his father would sing to him as a child drifting off into the air. She leaned against him, eyes closed and a content smile on her lips. He finished his song, listening to the sound of nothing.

"Thank you, love."

"You're welcome," he whispered, kissing her blonde hair once again. They stayed like that until the sun had set and the warm day turned into a chilly night. "We better go. It might storm again."

She hardly had the strength to get up. When they reached her apartment, she collapsed against the door, her breathing shallow and her body was shivering. Lukas panicked, rushing her into her bedroom and laying her down on her bed, stroking her cheek and listening to her mutter things in Danish under her breath.

Peter stood in the doorway, watching the scene play out before him. Birgitta bustled in and out of the room, trying to make her feel comfortable and ease Mathilde's pain.

"Lukas?"

Her voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Hm?" he perked up, hearing her voice. He brushed her hair away from her forehead, kissing her clammy skin and shuddering. "What?"

She smiled for a brief moment. "I love you, okay?"

"I know," he managed to say, biting his lip. "And I love you too."

"Until death do we part?" she asked, her eyes glancing at the ceiling.

"Until death do we part." He ran his thumb over the golden band on her ring finger, smiling. "And then after…"

* * *

><p>"<em>I'll stay with you<br>The walls will fall before we do  
>Take my hand now, we'll run forever<br>I can feel the storm inside you  
>I'll stay with you."<em>

* * *

><p><em>BLEEEEEEEEH.<em>

_Well I'm staying up and cranking out these chapters faster than I thought I would. That's a good thing._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	25. Track XXV: Nothing Is Real

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXV**  
><em>Nothing Is Real<em>

It's cold in her bedroom.

She wakes up, shivering, and her entire bedroom is below freezing. The man next to her bed is sitting in his usual chair, his elbows on his knees and his forehead brought to his folded hands. "Lukas?" she asks, but he doesn't even flinch. "Lukas!" she says, this time with more urgency.

She gets up and starts to walk. For the first time, it doesn't hurt her anymore. She gnaws at her lip, and comes across a dimly lit kitchen. "Hello?" she calls into the dark, empty space, only to see someone perched on her kitchen counter, a glass of wine in his hands, and a smile plastered on his lips.

"Hello, Mathilde. I've been expecting you."

He was handsome. He had longer, platinum hair with subtle curls. His dark eyes were almost purple. He had broad shoulders and a muscular body. The one thing that caught her attention was the subtle smile. It was _exactly_ like Lukas'.

"I'm sure you're confused," he motioned to a nearby chair and she takes a seat, shivering as cold air hits her body again. "My name is Marcus…"

"Marcus…" she repeats, the name vaguely familiar.

"Marcus Bondevik," his smile fades and it becomes painfully clear. His resemblance to Lukas is all too clear. "I am Lukas' father. And you're Mathilde Densen – excuse me, _Thomassen_ – my son's wife." He held out his free hand as he nursed the glass with his other. She hesitantly reach forward and shook it.

"Where am I?"

He looked around the kitchen. "You're in… well, it's rather hard to explain, my dear." He set the empty glass down on the counter next to him. "Think of it as the place between life and death. This is probably the part where your whole life flashes before your eyes. People tend to have a guide through this process."

"…are you…" she began, looking at the tiled floor beneath her. "…are you my guide?" she finally managed to ask. Marcus nodded, his purple eyes examining the female before him. "So… am I dead?"

"Do you want to be?"

The question caught her off-guard. "Many people come here and realize there was something they didn't get to do or have a regret they can't live with…" Marcus explained, sliding off the counter top and reaching forward, extending his hands towards her. She grabbed them and he helped her to her feet, leading her out the door of the apartment and across the street.

"So you let them live."

"It sounds like you've heard this before, Mathilde," Marcus stated, very matter-of-factly. Mathilde mused on what to say, humming in thought.

"A friend said Death was his personal escort," she began, carefully. "Said that… that he only was spared because he begged for his life and to be with his lover…" Marcus smirked.

"You're lucky." He took her hand and led her over to the place where her father lies. "Everyone is like your friend, but I personally _begged_ to be your guide." She tilted her head. "You see," he explained, sitting down on the ground and pulling grass from the earth. "I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For making Lukas happy. I have _never_ seen him smile the way he did around you."

"You're… welcome…?"

She sat down next to him in silence, and they stared at the grave in front of them. "Do you have any regrets?" he asked. "I know I did. I shouldn't have ended myself the way I did. But I was fucking _low_ then. I felt like I had lost _everything_…"

"The only thing I regret is that I never had my father's love or approval…" she mumbled. "But I can't change that."

"You grew into quite the woman," Marcus marveled. "I'm sure he'd be proud, regardless of past history. You lived thirty long years."

"I feel like it was so short…"

"I put a bullet through my brain before I was your age." He chuckled darkly, rolling his eyes. "My life was short. So many untied ends, but when you do what I did… you can't take it back. You're done. Finished. Same with terminally ill people… when you're done, you're done…"

He turned to her, curly blond locks framing his face. "So tell me, and please, be honest," he muttered. "Are you, Mathilde Freja Thomassen – daughter of Vilhelmina and Mads Densen – truly _finished_ with life?"

Her lip quivered. "I don't want to be."

"But could you walk away and not feel the need to turn around and change anything?"

She pondered this question. Obviously, there was the fact she didn't say her goodbyes, but she assumed they were doing that now. There was the fact her time spent with Lukas was so short, yet so filling. She'd never see Birgitta get married. She'd never see Peter get married or have kids.

However, she wouldn't be there _physically_, she could be there in other ways.

Marcus stood up and began to walk toward a blinding white light. "Have you made your choice?" he asked, extending his hand to her.

She knew that this reality wasn't real, but it was enough to have her extend her hand and grab his.

She nodded. "I'm ready."

Marcus smiled and they walked into the light.

Mathilde didn't even turn around.

* * *

><p>"<em>Nothing is real, it's all you believe<br>Something you dream inside your head  
>Nothing is real, it's all what you believe<br>It's something I need to call my own  
>To feel and call my own."<em>

* * *

><p><em>So it's 5 AM here. I need to sleep and writing a dream-like chapter makes me sleepier. Good night.<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	26. Track XXVI: Amigone

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXVI**  
><em>Amigone<em>

The doctor pronounced Mathilde Thomassen legally dead shortly after seven that morning.

Birgitta and Lukas sat in the kitchen, watching the men carry the body out on a stretcher, covered by only a thin, white sheet. "She went peacefully," Lukas mumbled into his coffee cup once they had left. "That's all I could've hoped for."

Birgitta reached over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. In a moment of motherly instinct, she began to pat him, speaking comforting words and telling him how she wouldn't want them to mourn over her too much. Yet, she herself could not stop the tears from flowing. No matter what she told him, she couldn't apply it to herself.

"I assume you had funeral arrangements?" he asked, rubbing his temples and setting the mug down. She nodded, standing up and walking over to a drawer, removing a small little planner with Mathilde's name neatly printed on it. "I'll cover all the costs. Don't worry," he stood up and took the small notebook from her hands.

"You don't have to…"

"I _want_ to."

She smiled and embraced him. "Thank you," she breathed, burying her face into his shoulder. "Thank you for everything. You're _always_ welcomed in this family. You're a _part_ of this family. Don't _ever_ forget that."

He wrapped his arms around her and bit his lip to stop the quivering. He nodded, listening to the stifled sobs that the usually composed Swede let out.

* * *

><p>"Peter, what are you doing out here by yourself?"<p>

Tino rushed down the sidewalk and grabbed the young boy, pulling him underneath his umbrella. "Without a proper coat or jacket or umbrella or _anything_! Where's Birgitta?" Indigo eyes scanned the sea blue eyed boy's face.

"She's at home… being stupid…" The Finn frowned, and the young boy shook him from his grasp. "I wanna be alone, Tino."

"What's wrong?" he inquired, recapturing the small wrists in his hand. "Did something happen?" Peter nodded, his blond hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. Tino frowned, the expression on the young boy hard to read. "What happened?"

"Mathilde died…"

Tino knelt down, covering Peter with the umbrella. His thick eyebrows knitted together. "I'm so sorry, Skip." He muttered this in a whisper, reaching out with his free hand to gently touch his shoulder. "When?" Peter shrugged.

"They pronounced her dead this morning, but Lukas was pretty sure she died in her sleep last night."

The Finn sighed, squeezing the younger's shoulder. "At least she went peacefully," he mused. "She had suffered so long… and she died in one of the best ways possible." The Brit frowned, shaking his head. "What's the matter, Peter?"

"Mama tried to play it off like everything was _fine_." He raised his underdeveloped voice slightly, then backed off. "I'm not a little kid. I _know_ not everything is fine. I'm afraid. I'm afraid Mama's gonna get sick and leave me now… the say way Mathilde did."

Tino was having a hard time telling if Peter was crying or if it was the water dripping from his bangs. "Your mother is healthy," he quietly whispered, brushing the damp pieces of hair from his face, confirming the idea that Peter was, in fact, crying. "She's not going to die. Mathilde lived her life to the fullest in the short amount of time she had to do so… she had a good job, met amazing people… she even fell in love and got married."

He forced the preteen to look at him, before hissing. "And Mathilde will _never_ leave you, Skip. _Ever_. Do you understand? She's… not here anymore, but she'll never leave your memory or your heart or your _soul_."

The young boy pondered, before asking the light haired man, "Do you believe in life after death? Like, in heaven and stuff?"

Tino froze. He had never given the idea much thought, before nodding. "I suppose. I mean… someone's gotta watch out for you and Birgitta, right?" he shrugged, standing up, but still keeping the rain shield over their heads.

"We have you."

He laughed. "Your aunt," he began, "would _never_ in a _million_ years trust anyone with you two. I can _try,_ but Mathilde would probably make me take all these tests to see if I'm capable… I'm just sorry I didn't have the time to make it up to her and earn her trust." Peter slipped his hand into Tino's larger one, nodding. "Hopefully, I can make up for it in time."

The young boy smiled, nodding. "I think you can."

* * *

><p>Birgitta had been worried sick when she realized, shortly after Lukas' departure, that her son had disappeared without a word. She was frantically calling around all morning, and was about to call the cops when she received a call from the Finn, telling her he had Peter with him and he was bringing him home.<p>

When the two males arrived, Birgitta yanked Peter from Tino's grasps and collapsed into the floor, crying new tears to swell up her eyes more. "You scared me! I didn't know where you were! Why didn't you tell me where you were going? Where did you go?"

"I found him downtown." Tino knelt down next to the small family, gently peeling the Swede's fingers from Peter's small shoulders. Birgitta groaned and was about to reach forward and shake the growing child, but Tino kept a hold of her wrists, pulling her to her feet.

"I'm so sorry about Mathilde…"

Birgitta yanked her hands away, shaking her head. "There's nothing _to_ be sorry about," she hissed. "Everything's _fine_. I knew this was coming. Nothing left to do but…" Her voice drifted off and the young Brit groaned, stomping his foot and pointing an accusing finger at the Swede.

"That's just _it_!" he screamed. "Everything is _not_ fine!"

"Peter, your voice…"

"I don't _care_!"

Tino stepped behind him, placing his hands gently on his shoulders and giving them a light squeeze. "Calm down, Skip. Your mother is trying to be strong for you…" The blue eyed preteen groaned and shut his mouth before another rant flew out.

Birgitta's frowned deepened, her puffy, red eyes streaming more tears. "I… I'm so sorry, baby…"

"Gitta," Tino softly spoke up. "You _don't_ have to keep this up anymore…" She didn't budge. "You can break down once in a while too. You don't have to always be strong."

She stepped forward and embraced the Finn, burying her face in his shoulders. Peter stood there, sandwiched between the two adults and sighed. "I'm so sorry… I thought…" Tino placed his hands gently on her hips, watching her pull away. Her lips quivered and she wiped her eyes.

"It's okay mommy…" Peter embraced her waist, leaning his head against her stomach. "I love you. I know you were just trying to protect me – but Mathilde would want to do that herself. If you're worrying about me, who's going to protect you?"

Tino's indigo eyed locked with her sky blue ones. "I think I know who would…"

* * *

><p>Emil and Lukas sat at their counter, sipping coffee in silence. Emil had heard the news from his half-brother earlier that day, and decided not to approach the topic unless Lukas himself started the conversation. "I feel like…" Lukas hesitated.<p>

Emil quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I feel like she's not even _gone_."

"Ah."

Emil did not force him to elaborate on this emotion or thought or whatever it was. Lukas yawned, eyeing the young man in curiosity. "You're awfully quiet."

"I want you to deal with this in your own way," Emil waved his hand. "My input shouldn't be remotely valuable. She was _your_ wife, not mine. However you deal with this is how you deal with it. I'm just here to be the shoulder to cry on in the meantime."

The Norwegian nodded. "Ah." He gripped his mug, shaking his head. "I wish there was something I could've done. I wish I had met her earlier… maybe I could've helped save her. God, I wish…"

"Were you happy with the time you spent together, though?"

Lukas' eyes sparkled briefly. "Of course," he mumbled. "I wouldn't change it for the world. I can never see myself with anyone else anymore." The Icelander nodded.

"There you go." Emil smiled, sliding off the stool and walking over to the sink, dumping his coffee out and placing his cup into it. "You're in love."

The light haired blond eyed the silver haired male, an unreadable look crossing his face for a brief moment. "I know that. Anyway, how would you know?" he crossed his arms. Emil's violet eyes sparkled, and his mouth became like cotton.

"I may be young," he managed to get out before swallowing. "But I know the feeling. Every moment, good or bad, with that special someone is precious. You'd never exchange that time for anything else or anything else."

Lukas frowned, his cobalt eyes scanning over his brother. "You're sure you found it with him?"

Emil didn't miss a beat. "I know I'm sure."

* * *

><p>She was to be cremated in three days time. They had sent in her obituary, informed various friends she'd want present, and then Lukas helped organize a small service before the cremation, kind of like a viewing or something of the nature.<p>

The Swede and Norwegian busied themselves with preparations. When Birgitta got stressed, Peter would often force her to step away from whatever it was and either make her food or send her to bed. Birgitta didn't argue, and allowed the down time to recharge her battery, so to speak.

Lukas didn't have the nagging son (or on occasions, Tino) to help him relax as much. Sure, Emil provided some sort of distraction for a few moments, but then the Icelander would stalk off and Lukas would realize he was right back to whatever had stressed him out.

Lukas had received condolences from various people. He thanked them all the same and went on his merry way. "Is it wrong," he muttered to himself. "To miss someone so much you cannot cry over them?"

He was sitting alone in his work space; a pen lingering above paper, his body slumped over in his chair. He had gotten no sleep since her death, and now he was starting to feel the effects. "I'm going to miss you, Mathilde."

His hand began to move freely across the paper, his fine cursive looping and connecting to words and letters as the blank page in front of him slowly became filled with words.

"I love you." He moved the pen away and set it down, slowly picking it up and examining what he had written down. "And I always will."

He gently laid the paper down onto the desk and grabbed one of the notebooks, scribbling down words before him.

* * *

><p><em>"Are you alive?<br>Amigone? Miracles gone wrong.  
>Is it too late to call and tell you to be strong?<br>Are you alive?  
>Amigone? (Miracles gone wrong).<br>Was the poison in our blood there all along?  
>Amigone?"<em>

* * *

><p><em>Something to lead us into the last two chapters. OTL.<em>

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	27. Track XXVII: Tucked Away

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXVII**  
><em>Tucked Away<em>

It was a gloomy, misty afternoon when they buried her.

Lukas had asked for a simple sermon, and Birgitta allowed whoever wanted to speak to tell stories of Mathilde. By the end of the funeral, the small group of close friends and the scarce family members left in slightly better spirits. The cemetery was finally clear of all the guests when only Birgitta, Tino, and Lukas were the only adults present. Clinging to Tino's jacket was a disgruntled Peter.

The headstone was gorgeous, just how Lukas envisioned she would like it. Above in curly letters was their shared name, _Thomassen_, and below two little squares with their names, date of birth, and for Mathilde, date of death.

Engraved on the back was the little prayer she always said on their trips to the cemetery. Peter recited every word from memory, in accented Danish. Tino placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he choked at the end, squeezing it lightly.

"I wish had more time."

"You'll be with her soon enough," Birgitta whispered, hugging the Norwegian from behind. Lukas blinked and tensed up. "Maybe tomorrow… maybe in twenty years… but she'll always be with you."

Lukas examined his wedding band and nodded. "Yeah. I guess." He frowned and turned on his heels. "I'm going to go home. I'll keep in touch with you guys. If you ever need anything, call me." He gave the Swede a final hug and shook the young Brit's hand.

Tino forced a small smile. "Catch ya later, Lu." Lukas and Tino smirked, before embracing each other. The Norwegian walked away, his body was shaking and tears were finally flowing with ease.

* * *

><p>"You can always move in with me."<p>

"It's too soon for that."

Peter was fast asleep by the time they returned home, and Birgitta sat quietly on the sofa, with Tino scrutinizing her from the chair across from the couch. "I know you don't wanna stay here, Gitta." She sighed loudly, removing her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I don't want to uproot Peter. I don't want to put him through anymore… pain. Please, understand what I have to go through now…"

"I'd help take care of you," he suggested. "You'd live with me and you'd sleep in my bed and the guest room can be turned into a safe haven for Peter. We'll buy a storage space and anything you want to keep we can put in there."

"And expenses?"

"I'd cover you. Come on, Birgitta," he coaxed, walking over to the cushion that she was not stretched out on and smiling. "This can be really good for you and Peter. You'll finally have everything you deserve. Mathilde would want you to be happy, right?"

"It _would_ be nice…" she whispered, hitching at the mention of the Dane's name. "But I still don't know, Tino… it's _awfully_ soon."

"It's the least I could do," he mumbled, flushing lightly and reaching for her hand. "Plus," he said, covering his bony hand with his own. "I need to make it up to Mathilde. I want her to know I can take care of you and she can trust me."

Birgitta smiled. "I'll think about it."

* * *

><p>Emil stood in the waiting room when the doctor reentered. "Ah, Mr. Steilsson. Mr. Sripuy was expecting you…" he bit his lip and shook his head. "Please, follow me. He'll be pleased to see you."<p>

After an awkward trip down the long hallway, Emil watched the doctor unlock the door and open it. "Mr. Sripuy, you have a visitor." Emil took a step inside and Kiet shot up, grinning like a child in a candy store, his chocolate eyes with lavender freckles on him.

"I'm only here to tell you a few things," Emil mumbled, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"How was the funeral?"

"It sucked," Emil made a face. "It was a _funeral_, Kiettisuk. It wasn't like going to a fucking playground." Kiet flinched at the use of his real name, and slid off the bed, standing up. "And I'm also here to tell you I'm done."

"…what?" the Thai asked through clenched teeth. The silver haired male nodded, glancing at a spot on the floor. "What do you mean _done_?"

"I mean," the Icelander began, slowly formulating the words in his head. "I'm done with you. We're no longer a couple. It's better this way."

"So," the Asian hissed. "You tell me to work for you – which I _have _been – and then come here to tell me my efforts are meaningless?"

"I'm telling you this because…"

Emil's violet eyes lock with Kiet's brown orbs and there is a pregnant pause. "I'm transferring schools."

"…you're what?"

Emil nodded in confirmation, and repeated, "I'm transferring out of the university and I'm going out to Boston. I'm really sorry… but I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you. I just… I need to think about my life… and right now…"

He stuttered over the next part, trying to keep himself from breaking.

"I don't see you in my life."

Kiet collapsed and fell onto the bed. "You… really feel that way."

"I'm sorry."

"No," Kiet shook his head. "I'm sorry… sorry I pushed you away."

"I'll call in every once in a while… to see how you're doing."

"I'll try to answer."

"I love you."

Kiet looked up, worrying his bottom lip. "And I will always love you, too. Even if you stop."

* * *

><p>The next week, Lukas and Emil busied themselves with packing Emil's things and finishing up his book. By Friday, not only was Emil ready to leave, but Lukas was ready to find a publisher and get his book out onto the shelf.<p>

"You know," Emil swirled his soda around in the glass, still too young to enjoy the wine his older brother was enjoying. "I feel bad. I just left him like that. I had promised him my life and changed myself for him… and now I'm giving that all up."

"For the good of your education."

"If it's even that."

Lukas shrugged and chugged down the rest of his wine. They sat in silence, before Emil spoke up, "And I wish you the best with your book. I know it's been a while since… you know… wrote anything _serious_…" he offered an off smile. "And I know that this book means the _world_ to you… so yeah… good luck."

Lukas smirked. "Thanks, Em." They stayed up the rest of the night, talking and laughing before Lukas had too much wine and fell asleep in the recliner, and Emil went up to his now bare room, sighing loudly at what little was left up there.

"Well… this is it."

He looked over to the window, wide open, and frowned.

* * *

><p>"I think we can work something out."<p>

Lukas practically leaped from his seat, but kept a calm, emotionless expression on the outside. "Really?" he asked coolly, and the woman behind the desk nodded, smiling as she set the manuscript down in front of her.

"It's such a sad, romantic story. I think it'll really sell. People are looking for those kinds of things…"

She tapped her chin, dark eyes on him.

"And another thing is it's _true_," the dark skinned woman smiled, nodding her head. "I mean, I'm a sucker for romance novels… and you have a gift with words… but the fact you're _really_ letting people in on this woman's life… incredible."

"She was truly amazing." He sighed, and folded his hand in his lap. "And I want people to know just how incredible she truly was. Mathilde was… a very special woman."

"I can tell," the woman gave Lukas a kind smile. "And now, I want to help you show the world how kind Mathilde really is. I'll publish it. It'll be a best seller, I'm sure of it!"

The talked business for a few moments and eventually they worked out something they both liked. After shaking on it, the Norwegian left and made his way down a crowded street towards his car. Things were starting to look brighter.

Lukas smiled, and looked up. "Another day," he muttered. "We'll meet another day."

* * *

><p>"<em>Mama just called, says she's tucked away.<br>Mama just called, says she's tucked away another day.  
>Mama just called, Says she's tucked away.<br>Mama just called, says she's extra sad today."_

* * *

><p><em>UGH. I JUST. UGH. I HATE THIS CHAPTER. I REALLY DO.<em>

_Honestly… I don't know._

_This story WILL go out with some kind of bang. I can promise you that._

_It's just… THIS CHAPTER._

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene :)<em>


	28. Track XXVIII: Name

Dizzy Up the Girl

**Track XXVIII**  
><em>Name<em>

**TWO YEARS LATER…**

"Thanks for helping us move in, Lukas."

Dropping a box onto the hardwood floor, the Norwegian groaned and shrugged. "Well, at least Tino found a girl he actually bought a _ring_ for." Birgitta laughed, examining the large rock on her ring finger and smiling.

"Well, I guess I bring out his better side."

"When _is_ this wedding?" Lukas leaned against the nearby counter. "Your wonderful fiancé has yet to tell me."

"You're his best man and you don't _know_?"

"What can I say?" Lukas chuckled. "He's a bit flighty. Haven't you noticed?" The Swede released her hair from the confinements of its bun and laughed again.

"It's in December… Christmas Day. We wanted a winter wedding because it just sounds appealing." She sighed, obviously dreaming of a true, Christmas time wedding. Tino had been persistent to wed someone on Christmas Day because he said it'd be the best Christmas present.

"Well, I'll definitely be there."

"I would expect you to." She smiled and grabbed a bottle of water. "By the way, I hear your book made the bestseller's list."

Lukas shrugged and looked at the spotless countertop. "I'm shocked it sold so well. People write me all the time, telling me how it 'changed their lives' and how I was 'so brave and loyal to her' and so on. I mean… yeah, it was a deep novel… but I never expected it to have this big of an effect on people."

Birgitta sighed, and her eyes fell onto the Norwegian. "When's the next book signing?"

"Next Tuesday at Matthew's shop."

"Peter's been trying to make it to one," she mumbled. "I'll have to tell him." They chatted briefly and Lukas yawned, grabbing his light, autumn coat. "I'll see you around! Thanks again for helping move!"

"No problem," he waved it off and opened the door. "I'll see you around." Birgitta leaned against the doorframe as he walked to the edge of the curb, glancing both ways.

The Swede closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Emil sighed and downed the rest of his beer, smirking as Lukas watched in amazement. "Do they not offer you booze in Boston?"<p>

"It's the first time I could drink here. I intend of taking full advantage of it." He pushed the empty glass away and turned to face his older brother. "How are you, Lukas? How are Tino and Birgitta fairing? And Peter, too?" Lukas chuckled and set his cobalt eyes on the dingy wall across from them.

"I'm great, in case you haven't heard."

"I figured."

"And Tino and Birgitta are finishing the last minute wedding touches before December rolls around." It was the end July, but Birgitta wanted everything ready and chaos free way before that. Besides, between now and then, they'd be busy with all of Peter's activities during the school year. "And Peter's doing great. He's an honor roll student and he's active and he's just the kind of kid everyone should be like…"

"How are things at the bookstore?"

"You mean," Lukas smirked a bit, watching his brother's gaze slowly drift from him to the bar patrons playing pool. "How is _Kiettisuk_?"

Emil's face turned bright red and he slammed his next drink down the moment it was placed in front of him. "If you must know," Lukas frowned as he softly spoke. "He quit that job. He got his shit together, got clean, and left last year with some guy from his support group."

"He just up and _left_?" Emil spat the question, in complete awe that Kiet even left the city _at all_. Lukas nodded, and Emil clenched his empty glass. "Why would he _do_ that? You don't up and _leave_ the people–!"

"You did."

Silence followed Lukas' monotone statement, and the Icelander set the glass down. "You left him when he needed you. You just up and moved halfway across the country. He at least travelled to Michigan – a lot closer than your departure."

"Does he hate me?"

Lukas paused, trying to contemplate a satisfactory answer. "He may be more disappointed than… _hateful_, Em…"

"And the guy he left with?"

"All I know is that his name was Kyle and he had recently graduated from the police academy." Emil's frowned deepened and Lukas had never seen his brother look like that before. "Did you miss him?" Emil slowly nodded, and Lukas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He missed you, too."

"Obviously not if he ran off to Michigan with some guy."

Lukas sighed and they left the bar in complete silence. They did not talk for the rest of the walk back to the hotel Emil was staying in.

* * *

><p>Birgitta sat on the bathroom counter top, a deep frown outlining her face. Peter leaned against the wall, a cross look on his face. "How much longer?" he asked, watching his mom look over at the sink next to her.<p>

"I'm sure it'll be done… it was like, what, twenty minutes?"

"I guess."

Birgitta had waited until Tino had left to bust out the little, shady at home pregnancy tests. After doing the initial process by herself, she called her son in to wait with her for the results. Peter thought she was being a drama queen – Tino had said himself he wanted to have kids with her – but he knew that he was living proof that someone can up and leave.

And sadly, Birgitta couldn't grasp the concept the ring on her finger meant that Tino wasn't up and ditching her so easily.

Watching the Swede slowly reach for the little stick, he watched her flip it over and make a noise of distress. "Positive?" he asked, quirking a bushy brow.

"…how do I tell him?"

"Shove the test into his chest when he gets home?" Peter suggested, but Birgitta was too caught up in her own thoughts to care. "…what would you name it…?"

"If it's a girl… I want to name her Mathilde…"

The bathroom door clicked open and the cheerful Finnish man shot them a confused look. "Name _what_ Mathilde?"

Clicking his tongue, Peter looked over at his mom and she flushed. "My- _our_ baby."

"…_baby_?" Tino blinked after asking.

"Yes…"

Tino slowly nodded, before looking over at Peter, a smile creeping onto his face. "I see a lot of room decorating in our future, Skip."

The tense atmosphere lightened.

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>sure<em> you're going to be okay?"

Emil watched as Lukas slowly made his way toward the door and the Norwegian forced a smile. "I've been perfectly fine. What makes you think otherwise?" Emil shrugged and Lukas smiled. "Besides, it's not like I'm driving. My cab should be here soon. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

Lukas pulled the thick, door open and closed it. He walked to the lobby and out the revolving front doors, before approaching his cab. "Take me to Ohio Avenue, please."

He settled into his seat, leaning back as they came to a halt at a stop light. The streets were pretty vacant, save a few passing people and some cars. He sighed, rubbing his head to try and avoid the pounding headache that was forming. "Fuck."

"Rough night?"

"A bit too much to drink."

A bright green light shone through the windshield and the driver took off. Lukas didn't see it coming.

All he felt was the hard smash.

* * *

><p>Pacing the waiting room, Emil bit his thumb. He was tired waiting for Tino to get there. The place was deserted, save the few late night staff. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves, and turned on his heels to resume pacing when he rammed into a doctor.<p>

"Emil."

His breath hitched and he stepped back, violet eyes examining the man before him. "I heard you had left and went to Michigan…" Emil muttered, watching the Thai glance away, flushing slightly. "So why are you here?"

"I did a year of internship in Michigan, and then I applied here. I wanted to come home." Kiet's face fell. "How are you doing?"

"What's it to you?"

"You better sit down."

They walked over to the empty, uncomfortable chairs and Kiet frowned, adjusting his glasses. "Emil, Lukas… didn't make it. He died after he got here. We couldn't do anything…"

"Bull shit."

"I'm sorry for your loss. I know," he began, slowly – as if he was trying to keep Emil from blowing up. "It must be very hard for you… and I want you to know I'm here for you." Emil snorted, standing straight up and stepping away.

Emil was frustrated. He wanted to feel remorse over Lukas, but for some reason, it was like he couldn't. He was angry. "What happened?" he asked. "With Lukas."

"A man in a truck ran the red light. His breaks went out. He slammed into the taxi. None of them survived." He inhaled sharply. "I'm so sorry, Emil…" Kiet stood up and placed a hand on the Icelander's shoulder. Emil turned around, giving the Asian a dirty look.

"You at least get to go home to a _boyfriend_. I get to go back to some hotel room and try to plan a fucking funeral… and then extend my stay here."

Kiet frowned and drew his hand away. "I'm _single_, for your information." He turned on his heels, before snarling over his shoulder, "And for your information, I'm not the bad guy. I didn't kill your fucking brother. And I sure as shit didn't up and leave you when you were stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Emil froze, but Kiet kept walking. "I'll be in the room. If you need anything or if you decide to act like a mature adult, find me there."

Tino entered just moments after Kiet left, and the Finn walked into the occupied room. After ten minutes, Tino exited and return to the waiting room. "Emil, do you want to see…?"

"…"

"Kiet says he'll even leave if you want to be alone."

"No, I will…" he mumbled, slowly standing up and making his way down the darkened hall. He pulled the curtains slightly to see the Thai and nurse talking, the nurse cleaning the bloody and bruised face of the Norwegian.

"Do you need to be alone?"

Emil nodded and Kiet watched the nurse set her supplies aside, walking out of the small room. The Thai began to walk by, but Emil grasped his arm. "Stay. Please. I need someone. Anyone."

"I can get Tino and he'll be in here as soon as…"

"I don't want to be alone at all."

Kiet stood there, but did not walk out. Emil squeezed his arm and slowly stared at the motionless body that was lying there. "At least he's with Mathilde. He had a good run. He really did. I think he wouldn't want to have lived life any other way… I'm just shocked…"

"Why?"

"I had asked him if he was alright… because he had been off since we left the bar…" Emil bit his lip. "Like he knew something. Maybe it's a coincidence…"

"There are no such things as coincidences," Kiet mumbled, turning to face the body. "I've told you that." Emil frowned and wiped the corner of his eyes. Kiet grabbed his shoulders, turning the younger male to face him. "Emil, are you okay?"

"No!" he shouted. "My fucking brother is dead and my ex-boyfriend is acting like everything's okay! You're being insensitive! You're being a fucking _prick_!"

"I'm not trying," Kiet managed to say. "It just seems that way. You're mad. Can I do anything for you?"

"Do not leave me alone tonight, please…"

* * *

><p>"So, Lukas for the boy, and Mathilde for the girl?"<p>

Peter was curled up on the sofa, listening to his parents quietly talking in the next room. "I can't believe that he's dead…" Birgitta whispered. "When's the funeral? How's his brother?"

"Emil is a basket case."

Birgitta wrapped her arms around his neck, and Tino frowned. The whole house was silent after that, and Tino sniffled. "Fuck… I can't believe he's dead. He was like the brother I never had… and now he's fucking _gone_."

"It's hard, I know…"

Tino frowns. "I'm sorry… I'm making it sound like this only ever happens to me. I'm just so…" Birgitta pulled him in for a kiss and nuzzled his neck. "I've never had to deal with someone so close to me die. Like…"

Peter heard a choked sob and his mother whispering to him. He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He hummed a song to himself, trying to distract his brain from thinking about death. It seemed all too common these days. Everyone close to home was dying, and he feared that it could be his mom or Tino or himself or his baby brother or sister.

_No one's going to leave you, kid. I promise_.

He shot up, looking around the room.

His heart raced and his body shook.

_I'll protect all of you guys, me and Lukas both._

Peter smiled and stood up, walking over to his mother and soon-to-be stepfather, embracing the man tightly and comforting him with, "Everything's gonna be fine."

* * *

><p><em>Lukas' eyes opened slowly, the hospital room spinning around and around. "Until death do we part…" a sweet voice called out, and the Norwegian sat up, looking across the graveyard. "And then after." He slid off the cart, watching it roll away slowly, creaking in the background.<em>

"_Now I lay me down to sleep…" The voice was practically singing. "I pray the Lord my soul to keep."_

_Pushing the fence open, he inhaled sharply. "If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take." He followed the sound of the voice, before approaching the headstone with his last name on it, a figure bent over placing a bouquet of roses on the ground._

"_If I should live another day…" The female stood up, light blue eyes locking with cobalt eyes and a smile creeping up to her face. "I pray the Lord to guide my way…"_

_Lukas stood there, unable to form words. "Hello, Lukas…" Mathilde whispered, stepping forward until there was hardly an inch of space between their bodies. "I've been waiting. I expected a longer wait though…"_

"_Mathilde… am I…?"_

"_You died." Her voice was smooth. It wasn't rough and she sounded healthy. She _looked_ healthy. "You're here to decide… do you want to go back?"_

_Lukas blinked, mumbling, "Elaborate?"_

"_People think that sometimes, they haven't lived their lives fully…" she began, slowly bringing her warm hands to his clammy face. "They come here and plead their case to Death. I begged him to let me come here to see you. Marcus begged him to let me be here for you…"_

"_Marcus… as in… my _father_?"_

"_He was there when I died," she explained. "And now, I'm here for you. Now tell me Lukas, how has life been these past… two years?"_

"_Emil went off to Boston and left Kiet…"_

"_Ah, yes. I believe they're still in the room, and Emil's a bit of a mess."_

"_And then Tino's marrying Birgitta."_

"_He's grown on me," she admitted, laughing as she pulled him in for a kiss. "But I wish I could see her in a big, white dress. She always liked that idea of a big, fancy wedding like the queens and kings have…"_

"_And I became a successful author."_

"_Sounds like you led quite the life."_

"_And I wouldn't change any of it for the world," Lukas said, pressing his forehead into hers and smirking. "I'm happy with things. I'm ready for a new adventure. I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you."_

_She held up her left hand, the wedding ring still on her finger. "Isn't that was this means?" Lukas nodded, and pressed a tender kiss into her forehead._

"_Now I want to spend the rest of _eternity_ with you."_

_She grabbed his hand and pulled him up a hill, watching him gaze at the warm, inviting light at the very top. "Once you go, you can't come back."_

"_As long as I have you I don't care."_

_And they slowly walked, hand-in-hand. At the bottom of the hill, a large sea of people, all in black, gathered around as the casket was buried into the ground. The novel of his life had drawn to an abrupt close. He didn't know what would become of Tino and Birgitta's stories, or what would happen in Peter's unfolding story. He was uncertain of the chapter of Emil's relationship._

_He was only certain that once he entered this life, it was time for a new story._

_And Lukas knew – even in death – that what lied straight ahead of him…_

_Well, that was a whole other story._

* * *

><p>"<em>We grew up way too fast<br>And now there's nothing to believe  
>And reruns all become our history<br>A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio  
>And I won't tell no one your name<br>I won't tell 'em your name."_

* * *

><p><em>Hmmm… I don't know. I am happy with the way this ending is. It's odd. It's different, but it leaves so many open endings…<em>

_But I like those kinds of endings. OTL._

_And now lovelies, this story is finally done. One year later and… boom. Finished._

_I love everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, ETC. Thanks for your support, patience, kindness, advice, love, and everything else!_

_Also, a huge kudos to _**Strawberry07**_, who is translating this story into Spanish! So…if anyone wants to relive these memories in another language, go ahead and do so._

_Uhm. Yup. That's it._

_I will still be around, answering PMs, reading stories, replying to reviews, but as far as posting goes, I'm strictly posting on AO3 (Archive of Our Own) now. If you want to, you can read some… err… stuff there. My name is the same is on here, _**abiirosee**_._

_Also, you can find me on Tumblr. My main one is_ ** .com**_, and I have a writing one (usually saved for angst writing and shit). _** .com**_._

_Uhm… yeah, I guess that's it._

_I'm having a hard time letting go of this._

_But it's time to end it…_

_**Adios~!**__  
>Darlene:)<em>


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